#especially when I am in public and there is nothing for me to channel into

[01zfan]

number 45 | o. sh

volleyball player!shotaro x manager!reader | 5.4k words

anons who requested this. i am SO SORRY it took me so long to get to this. i had to channel my past in volleyball for this and find the motivation for it so i hope the quality and the length makes up for the wait!

contains: semi-public, hand stuff only, mentions of clothing being tight (???)

shotaro would’ve never thought he’d end up playing volleyball. as a child he liked watching basketball the most, and when he he was in middle school he played soccer. but one summer at a sleep-away camp he picked up a volleyball for the very first time. shotaro received so many compliments about how he was a natural that he decided to tryout for the team on a whim. he knew it was insane to go into tryouts for a sport he never played, that it was less than likely he would be selected for the team. but it turned out everyone was right, he did have a natural talent. it wasn’t long before shotaro was accepted, becoming the libero on the junior varsity team.

shotaro also didn’t think he’d stay with it. just like soccer he found himself hitting ruts that caused him to lose momentum. he had to learn a completely new sport, he had to learn how to go for passes with his hands and dig for balls by diving his body to the floor instead of using his legs. the frustration of moving his body differently manifested into him not caring for the sport. it wasn’t long before he was not giving his all at practice, only nodding his head or shrugging his shoulders when the coach would ask him what was happening.

he even considered quitting when the coach wouldn’t bench him at the games. he knew he couldn’t stop himself from doing his best during games, especially with his team counting on him. he reluctantly ended up doing the best he could, and as a result his team did the best they could too. by his sophomore year shotaro was on the varsity team, and by the time he graduated he was captain.

when shotaro came to college it was a completely different atmosphere. he was against people stronger and taller than him, and he was up against people who didn’t have anything but love and passion for the sport. after the first day of tryouts shotaro stayed behind long after everyone left, practicing the drills he messed up. he was in his own little world, sweat dripping from his brow as he wondered if volleyball was worth it anymore.

“the gym is closed.”

shotaro turned away from the net to follow the voice. he remembers your face, but the amount of names he heard that day made him forget. all shotaro knew was that you were the assistant student manager. he saw your duffle slung over your shoulder as you wiped sweat from your brow with the bottom of your shirt. 

“you’ll only hurt yourself at this point. try sleeping on it, the drills will come to you naturally.” you turned around to walk out of the gym, and shotaro was getting ready to resume his drills. you turned around again, hand on the strap of your bag as you got his attention again. “you’re shotaro right?” you asked.

shotaro was shocked that you remembered his name. he was one face out of the crowd of athletes. he doesn’t even remember if he had the chance to formally introduce himself to anyone before they started explaining the process of tryouts.

“yeah.” shotaro said.

”cool.” shotaro saw you look down at your feet, his eyes caught on the brace that was bound to your ankle and the small scar down your knee. “you’re really good. i hope you make the team.” you said.

shotaro could only nod, giving you a simple wave as you left the gym. he thought nothing about his performance was noteworthy, much less worthy of praise. but you seemed to mean it, and as you walked away shotaro took your words of advice seriously. he packed up shortly after you left, and he had a long nights rest to recuperate from all the exercise. 

he found out you were right when the drills came to him like second nature the next day. he saw you watching him a few times, giving him nods of approval and a thumbs up each time he caught your eye. shotaro found himself looking to you each time he did a perfect serve, or was able to get a ball that seemed unsalvageable. he found himself overhearing the pointers you’d give to everyone else, even if they didn’t apply to him. each time you gave him advice shotaro listened intently, blaming the heat he felt across his face on the strenuous workouts. 

at the end of the week when he made the team, you were the first person he looked for. in such a short time shotaro decided that you were his good luck charm and that he needed to let you know. he was quick asking for your number, hiding it under the guise of needing to have the student manager’s contact information. you gave it to him with a smile on your face, putting your name and number in his phone.

“i’m going to the dining hall after this.” you handed shotaro back his phone and he texted you so you could have his number too. “if you wanna come with.” you offered.

shotaro took you up on the offer a little too quickly. he sat with you and the rest of the team, sharing stories about volleyball before coming to college. shotaro saw you nod and smile, understanding all the nuances of what it was to be a volleyball player, but never sharing stories of your own. he knew not to ask about it, he had come to that conclusion after finding about your vast knowledge of the sport and seeing the scar on your knee.

you and shotaro had made fallen into your own post-practice routine. he would wait for you in the main gym while you finished your clerical duties at the end of the night, and you two would walk together to the dining hall. sometimes you would end up catching the rest of the team, but more often than not it would be just the two of you sitting in the booth of an emptying dining hall. you two talked about life back home, what you were planning to study, and everything in between. 

the friendship blossomed quickly, but the dynamic changed the more you two spent time together. shotaro went from sitting across from you in the booth to sliding in next to you, so close that your shoulders touched. you two went from saying goodbye outside of the dining hall to shotaro walking you to your dormitory. eventually he was holding your duffle bag for you on the walk over, and one day he finally got the courage to reach for your hand. 

by the middle of the season, you two were in a relationship. everyone on the team seemed to know before you guys did, some even bet on how long it would take before you two got together. you two kept your relationship out of practice. you didn’t hesitate to advise shotaro and you refused to hold back critiques relayed to you by the coach. 

he respected you for your professionalism and passion for the sport, he truly did. he loved how you cared for the team and managed the responsibilities of the job while also easing everyone else’s stress. shotaro and his team never had to worry about the logistics of practice, they never had to worry about the little things if you were there. shotaro always found himself puffing out his chest proudly when his teammates would praise your hard work or mention that they never had a student manager like you. so shotaro didn’t know why he would feel a pang of jealousy seeing the girlfriends of his teammates in the stands wearing their jerseys. 

he knew it was unfair to impose anything on you. shotaro was able to get your support constantly outside the context of games, so he didn’t know why he felt that way. sometimes all shotaro could think about during games or practice was seeing his player numbers across your chest. he thinks he would be unstoppable on the court if he saw it only once—he’d keep a picture of you in his mind like soldiers did of their wives back home before going to war. but he would never ask you to do anything that would show such blatant favoritism, even if he was your boyfriend and everyone knew it. he could also never bring himself to admit the primitive aspect of it all, that he would feel some sense of satisfaction seeing his number on your body. so because of that, shotaro simply kept it to himself. 

he had planned to never tell you about it, but it was hard to avoid the conversation when it was staring at him right in the face. 

it was another long practice, ending with you walking around the main gym looking for shotaro. you called out his name and texted his phone to see where he was. you knew that no one else was in the gym at this time, you had even seen the custodians leave for the night after cleaning the floors. you followed the sounds of the showers, standing outside as you called out your boyfriends name again.

“i’m in here.” he called back.

“i’ll wait outside!” you yelled, hoping your voice would carry over the sound of running water.

as soon as you were done speaking, you heard the water shut off.

“come in. it’s just me.” shotaro said.

instantly you shook your head, looking up to the camera that was pointing right at the entrance of the showers.

“i can’t. not allowed.” you said simply.

shotaro came from around the corner of the tile wall, only wearing a towel around his waist. he had another towel in his hands, running through the wet strands of his hair.

“if anyone asks, say you heard me slip and fall.” shotaro beckons to you, and your feet started moving on their own accord. “come in.” he smiled. 

shotaro lead you through the winding tile walls of the showers until you made it to the main dressing room. you set your duffle down beside the bench, sitting on the polished wood as shotaro finished getting ready. you looked up in the large mirror embedded into the wall in front of you to stare at him. the pale blue tiles went all the way up to the white ceiling. you counted them up and down, each time leading you back to the reflection of shotaro’s body in the fogging glass.

he pretended to not notice your stare as he took his towel off to dry the rest of his body. when he looked in the mirrors reflection and saw you look away quickly, his laugh filled the room.

“it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” shotaro said.

you nodded your head sheepishly, still looking down at your feet. he wasn’t wrong, you had seen shotaro naked more times than you could count on your hands and feet. but it was different seeing him outside the privacy of your dorm rooms. you have never seen shotaro naked in a place that could easily be invaded. all it took was a straggler from practice or a custodian to catch you staring at your naked boyfriend. you only slightly settled down when you heard him pull up the pants to his tracksuit. when you looked back up to the mirror shotaro was putting on his shirt. 

he came behind you, looking at you in the mirror with a smile on his face. shotaro bent down and kissed the crown of your head. you tilted you head to look at him directly.

“how was practice for you?” you asked.

shotaro shrugged his shoulders, moving his hand to massage your neck. he continued looking in the mirror to stare at you, and when he got to a stubborn knot you let your head lull forward.

“it was good. i’m a little nervous for the game tomorrow.” shotaro answered.

you hummed sympathetically, pulling shotaro’s hands away. you guided him around the bench to stand in front of you. you were sincere as you spoke, holding his hands tightly.

“you’ll do great, i know you will.” you encouraged.

shotaro nodded his head, feeling the anxiety of the important match melt off of his shoulders. he already felt like he was on top of the world just by looking down at you. shotaro watched the serious look on your face change to a bright smile as you squeezed his hands again.

“i do have a surprise for you.” you excitedly waved his hands around. “it just came in today and i can’t wait.” you said.

shotaro couldn’t control his own smile. he thought about what you could possibly give him as he cocked his head to the side.

“and what is that?” he asked.

you guided his hands again until he was standing next to the bench opposite of you. you both moved to straddle the bench, and shotaro watched you look to your duffle bag before looking to him.

“close your eyes.” when shotaro’s eyes stayed on your duffle bag you stopped messing with the zipper. “taro i’m serious!” you laughed.

shotaro hesitated for a moment, but let his eyes close. he let his imagination run wild, trying to think what surprise was waiting for him in your duffle. he thought maybe it was his favorite snack, maybe it was a lucky pair of socks or a handwritten note. when shotaro thought he heard the sound of your clothes jostling he had to compose himself. he tried to beat the dirty thoughts away with a stick as he held onto the edges of the bench. he heard you curse under your breath a moment later. 

when everything was still in the room again, he stuck out a tongue to wet his lips.

“okay. open them.” you said hesitantly. 

shotaro wasn’t expecting to actually be surprised when he opened his eyes. his wildest imagination would’ve never been able to pluck the view he was blessed with down from his mind to place it right in front of him. he let out a sigh from the other side of the bench as he took all of you in. he got the perfect view from where he was. he was able to see the 45 of his jersey stretch across your chest and how the tight fabric rode up to reveal your stomach. shotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you pulled at the end of the sleeves in efforts to make it fit right. 

“it’s a little snug.” your attempt to pull down the bottom of the shirt was futile. it rode back up immediately once you were done pinching the fabric. “i thought mens sizes were supposed to be bigger.” you said

shotaro still couldn’t take his eyes off of your chest as he shook his head. the primitive thoughts shotaro tried to keep at bay became barbaric as he watched the tight jersey material stick to you. when you crossed your arms to cover your chest shotaro’s hands went to your bicep, pushing them back to your sides.

“perfect fit.” shotaro spread his legs on either side of the bench further as he took his hands off your arms. “it’s a perfect fit. no reason to hide.” he said.

he watched you mesmerized as you continued to move in his jersey. your end of the bench felt like it was miles away the longer he looked at you on the other side. he reached out a hand to you, letting his palm drag across the polished wood as he pulled his hand back. shotaro was grateful you understood what he needed as you came forward, your hands gripping the edges of the bench. you brought your arms in to make your chest poke out more, trying to give him a show. his eyes ran over his numbers before he went to the shy smile on your face. shotaro mirrored your grin as he scooted forward closer to you. shotaro’s smile only got bigger as you two came closer and closer, by the time your face casted a shadow on his you could see his gleaming teeth. he only stopped smiling a moment before your lips touched his, biting them as he looked down to yours.

your kisses were light and soft, both of you tilting your heads to accommodate the other. one of shotaro’s hands came from behind him to go to your waist, and one of your hands let go of the bench to hold onto his face. you could feel the soft skin of shotaro’s cheek underneath your fingertips as you deepened the kiss. you held his head in place as you pushed your tongue past his lips. shotaro’s other hand went to your waist and he pulled you in closer, until you had to put your legs over his.

shotaro only brought you closer, and he moved towards you to cover the rest of the space. you could feel all of him press against you as one of his hands moved to your ass and the other moved to the small of your back. shotaro applied pressure, making your chest come closer to his as your hand that wasn’t on his face went to his shoulder. he was grabbing handfuls of you, kneading whatever part of your body he could get his hands on while your grip on his shoulder tightened. neither of you refused to pull away, only catching quick breaths in the seconds one of you would pull away to readjust. 

when you moaned into shotaro’s mouth he remembered where he was. he was supposed to be like you, taking his role on the team very seriously. he remembered that he shouldn’t be making out with you in a place where you two could so easily get caught. so he pulled away from you reluctantly, and moved a gentle hand to your shoulder to keep you from leaning forward again. your plump lips called to him, but he remained steady as he caught his breath.

“we could get caught.” shotaro said.

you only nodded your head, eyes wide as you tried catching your breath. shotaro nodded too, trying hard to not let his eyes wander back to his numbers across your chest. he still had a handful of your ass, and he could feel you arch your back in efforts to give him more. your hands that were still on shotaro’s face pulled him in, and he only resisted for a second before going back in. 

now it was you smiling against his lips, taking a deep breath in as you pulled on his bicep. shotaro’s hand went to your thigh as he lifted to get you completely on his lap. your hand on his face went to the nape of his neck before traveling up his scalp, reveling in the soft strands running through your fingers. when you pulled shotaro sighed, slipping his tongue further into your mouth.

you two were so caught up in the act of kissing that you forgot what always followed it. you were lost in how shotaro’s soft lips pressed into yours that you nearly gasped in his mouth feeling his dick pulse against you. he responded by only pulling you closer, and when your lips broke apart shotaro went to whatever part of your body he could reach. when you tilted your chin back he went to your jaw, traveling all the way down your neck until he got to what his jersey covered. shotaro pulled your hips down to his lap and he pushed into you when you pulled the hair at his scalp.

“you’re really hard right now.” you sighed.

“sorry.” shotaro said in between kisses. “you just look so perfect.”

“yeah?” you laughed, bringing your hands to shotaro’s face so he could look up at you. “i thought we could get caught?” you asked.

“i don’t remember saying that.” shotaro said.

you both let out quick chuckles and shotaro couldn’t stop thinking about how all of his restraint melted away feeling in your presence. it was a problem he was developing, even worse than his habit of not saying mine when going for a ball or cursing under his breath when a play wasn’t set up perfectly. he looked at the glint in your eyes and down to his number that was covered up by your two bodies pressing together. 

there are worse problems to have.

shotaro travels his hand up your thigh, watching the anticipation build behind your eyes as you preen into him. he messes with the fabric at the end of the shorts before pressing into you. you break eye contact to tilt your head back but shotaro’s eyes stay on you, how your neck bobs as you get the little relief. he feels himself becoming impatient at the sight, and he pulls your waist down with his other hand so you can feel all of him.

he repeats the action, just pressing into you and bringing your hips down to meet his each time you raise them. he can feel his dick pulsing in his pants, and shotaro almost sticks his own hand underneath his waistband to relieve the aching. but he doesn’t want to miss a single second of you getting teased as your eyebrows furrow from the almost pleasure.

“shotaro.” you sigh, looking up to the ceiling.

your own hand starts drifting down, taking the time to press into shotaro’s chest and stomach before you reach the pants of his tracksuit. you look down to shotaro when the thick band of fabric stays in your way, and he looks up at you with his eyes gleaming. his hand stops pressing into your heat to go up to your waistband. 

“mhm?” he hums.

neither of you say anything else as both of your hands move at the same time. you grab his dick and shotaro goes to your clit—not wasting any more time to tease. you both silently come to the conclusion you will have time for all the other stuff later, right now it was all about sated the desperation both of you felt until you were somewhere more private. 

shotaro knew he’d have to take his time with you in his dorm when he rubbed the first circle around your clit. instantly you were curling into him, muffling your tiny whimper into his shirt. shotaro knew he would be better composed later in the day, that he would be able to tease you or coo at the sounds you made into the fabric of his shirt instead of biting his lip to keep his own sounds at bay. he couldn’t help himself when you squeezed your hand around his dick just right, and when you had his name and number written all over you. 

the both of you were too reckless to start at a slow speed. when your hands went to eachother you both started fast, rushing through the motions as the last bit of your brains that were working told you that you had to be quick. so you quickly pumped shotaro’s dick until he was thrusting into your hand and he wasted no time teasing your clit until you were begging for his fingers. you both were messes for eachother in seconds, hands wedged between smushed bodies and shoved underneath clothes in shotaro’s team locker room. the novelty of it all would’ve made you both laugh if you weren’t so caught up in trying to feel everything.

shotaro felt the joking mood shift as you looked up to him. he could see the lights of the locker room reflect your glassy eyes, making it look like you had stars swimming in your irises. you were serious as you looked up to him, lips pouting as you spoke.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you said, looking straight into shotaro.

his fingers on your clit faltered at the sudden praise, only finding their tempo again when you bucked your hips and let out a small desperate sound.

“what?” shotaro asked, trying to keep up with your hand that tightened around his dick.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you repeated.

you repeated the words without faltering, tilting your head. you could see the confusion written on his face, flickering between that and how his lips parted when you squeezed a little tighter. you leaned back to rest on your hand that wasn’t on shotaro, giving both of you enough room to move your hands faster. the new angle let you pull down shotaro’s sweats enough to see the tip of his dick peaking out past your hand.

“i know i said you could do whatever you want.” you pumped his dick faster, feeling him pulse in your hand each time you went back down from his tip. “but i wanted to die when you told me you were thinking of quitting.”

shotaro quickly changed the angling of his hand in your pants, making his palm face the ceiling so he could finger you and stimulate your clit at the same time. you closed your eyes from the change and let a tiny fuck slip past your lips before opening them again. you clenched around his fingers when shotaro licked his lips.

“why?” he asked weakly.

“because you’re such a good leader, even if you aren’t captain yet” you started swiveling your hips into his hand, chasing that feeling building in the pit of your stomach. “they couldn’t do it without you.” you whined.

shotaro found himself chasing after something else, and a different feeling erupted across his body hearing your praise. he didn’t know what to do with himself hearing the rushed compliments fall from your lips as he watched you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. shotaro came to the embarrassing realization that he didn’t need you to touch him anymore, he could fall apart just from watching you and hearing you talk to him.

“they’re more than capable.” shotaro bent his fingers inside of you, eyes already focused on your chest to watch it jolt in the confines of his jersey as your whole body twitched. “feels good?” he asked.

shotaro watched you lull forward, eyes lazily focused on him as you nodded your head. he could see you actively trying to remember what you were saying, swallowing as you prepped your shaky voice.

“eunseok would’ve never been able to fix his jump serve if you didn’t help him.” shotaro tried putting in a third finger, but when he saw you wince he pulled back. “and sungchan kept touching that fucking net until you scolded him.” you said.

shotaro could tell you were getting close by the way your words were turning into babbles and your hand on his dick was becoming more and more rushed. he watched you screw your eyes shut and when you opened them he could see the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to focus on his. shotaro kept his eyes open wide, trying to remember the sight when he tries out for captain. 

your walls closed around shotaro’s digits repeatedly, and he continued pumping his fingers in and out even if it felt like you were trying to suck him in. 

“you think i’m a good volleyball player?” shotaro asked the question just to see you pitifully nod your head.

“you’re the best.” you arched your back, and the new angle helped shotaro go deeper inside of you. “you’re my favorite.” you whimpered.

shotaro’s eyes were wide as he took in every word. your voice dripped with sincerity as you rushed through sentences. shotaro used one of his hands to trace the curve of your body, ending at the bottom of his jersey. he pulled on the material, bringing the pinched fabric down your torso until it was completely straight. shotaro felt a newfound pride in himself that materialized in his chest, trickling down like molten lava to his stomach. immediately when he let go the tight fabric clung to you like a second skin, riding up the same way it did before. shotaro ran a quick hand through his hair as he felt the excitement prickling across his body.

“i’m gonna cum.” shotaro said.

his voice was beginning to waiver, floating between grunts and prolonged sighs. you nodded your head again, pushing up from your other hand to focus. you squeezed shotaro’s tip, using his precum as lubricant for your ministrations. he jerked his hips up quickly, bunching his pants at his mid thigh to free the rest of his dick. you moaned at the sight, using your legs that were still on shotaro’s to bring your body closer to his.

shotaro wrapped his hand around your back, giving you stability and enough space to work your hands the same way. when he saw you bring the end of his jersey down shotaro couldn’t hold out any longer. he pressed his fingers into your side and he closed his eyes as relief washed over his body. you kept working your hand when shotaro stilled underneath you, and he heard more mumbled praises fell from your lips as his his dick twitched in your hand. he left out one final curse, leaning forward until his head rested on your shoulder.

when shotaro opened his eyes he saw his cum glide down your hand and his abs. he saw some of it on your stomach, dribbling down your body to seep into the fabric of your sweatpants. you looked down too, looking back up to shotaro with a hunger that made him almost ready to go again. 

before you could close the distance between your lips shotaro leaned forward, working still feeling the buzzing across his body as his lips ghosted over yours.

“i couldn’t have done it without you.” shotaro said it quietly, afraid that if he got any louder he would only moan. he took his fingers from your clenching heat to focus on your clit. “you’re my motivation to be in this stupid sport and the only reason i stayed.”

shotaro felt your legs shake over his and your hand moved from his dick to dig your nails into his stomach. shotaro flexed for you, hardening the muscle underneath his skin. he could feel the cum on your hand smear onto his stomach, warm and sticky as your grip on him changed.

“you close?” shotaro asked, readjusting his hand around your back.

“so close.” you whimpered. “just keep going.”

“okay baby.” shotaro’s hand across the small of your back pulled at you, making you lean forward into his chest. “moan into my shirt if you need to.” he whispered.

you nodded while pushing your hips forward trying to work with shotaro’s fingers. your entire body went tense, gripping shotaro’s shirt so hard the fabric wrinkled. your moans became whiny and you could feel shotaro nodding his head.

“i got you.” he whispered into your ear.

your full body shook around shotaro, and he continued to nod and keep the same speed. he could feel the same relief coming off you in waves, and shotaro let a finger run down your folds to gather your cum. he used that as extra lubrication on your clit, speeding up until you let out a shuddering breath. he didn’t stop until you started shaking your head against his chest and your hand on his abs clasped around his wrist. he still tried circling his hand, smiling as how you had to push yourself off his lap before you got overstimulated.

“baby.” shotaro breathed.

“mhm?” you hummed. 

you still leaned into his chest, and shotaro watched your back raise and lower as you tried catching your breath. he saw the small trace of tear tracks underneath your hooded eyes.

“did you mean all the stuff you said?” he asked.

you put your hands to his face as you nodded your head. shotaro leaned into your palms, and the need to be touched by you took over his mind again. 

“of course i did.” you bring shotaro forward to kiss his forehead. when you pulled back he saw the facetious smile on your face. “i would love to tell you more about it, actually.” you teased.

you and shotaro were tripping over eachother as you gathered your belongings. you readjusted your sweatpants and threw shotaro’s hoodie over his jersey. shotaro slung both of your duffles over his shoulder quickly. you moved in a haste, not looking back at the bench to see if you left a mess. shotaro didn’t turn around till he made it to the exit, peaking at you one last time with a joking smile on his face.

“just make sure the jersey stays on.” he laughed.

[victoriadallonfan]

I don't agree with a lot of Sanderson's politics - and they aren't, in fact, based in Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints doctrine, but rather Utah culture - but it also makes me pretty uncomfortable to hear you badmouthing the church I'm part of?

I badmouth religious organizations in general, Catholic Church included (in which I was raised) because they tend to be overwhelmingly corrupt and abusive towards their own church members (and especially towards people outside of them)

Mormonism in particular is especially bad for how being part of the church requires “tithings” from paychecks plus their treatment of women, minorities, and even men in ways that are almost so explicitly manipulative and cultish that it feels like it comes out of parody.

(For example, I simply declared, “I am no longer catholic” and that was it. Done. You cannot generally do the same in LDS without incredible backlash and slander by its members)

And it’s very obvious when it shows up in fictional books by a lot of Mormon writers, because it’s so conservative that it’s a step or two behind the times.

It’s not as bad as Westeros Westboro Baptist Church or Scientology, but that’s not a high bar to clear.

If your time in the church was different, I’m happy for you, because it means you likely avoided the worst parts of their abuse.

Still, if you have the time, I’d suggest watching these videos (in no particular order):

Why I Left Mormonism - Video covering the creation of the channel “Cults to Consciousness” and her abusive home life under the church

The BITE Model - Simple PowerPoint explaining the reoccurring factors of cults

Ex-Mormon Cast Reacts to Mormon Debates -Cast of ex-Mormon members react to a Mormon debate and highlight various lies and falsehoods presented, as well talk about teachings/history Mormon Church does not want revealed publicly

How the Mormon Church ‘Help Line’ Hid Child Abuse - Exactly what it says. Survivors speak out and the church has done nothing for them or worse.

If you don’t want to watch these videos, if you can’t stomach the testimonies, ask yourself and others these questions:

- How often are you allowed to preach about Heavenly Mother?

- How often do you see women in power within the church, as in, deciding doctrine and not just playing piano or making food for the men?

- How often do you see minorities in power within the church, as in, deciding doctrine or being treated as a token?

- How often does your church talk about the incredibly high suicide rates for children and how it’s associated with its practices?

- How come when a racist, anti-Semitic, misogynistic etc Prophet speaks its “the word of God” and doctrine, but then another Prophet can simply claim it was mere “policy”. Was ‘God’ lying to the prophets? Were the prophets lying about God? How can you trust what is their words and what is God?

- How come the church hid $30 Billion dollars from the public and even its own lower members?

- How come the founder lied about what was on the Egyptian papyrus, claiming it was a translation from God, but people who can actually read Egyptian pointed out he was lying?

- How come you get treated differently for asking these supposedly easy to answer questions?

I do not go after Brandon or you because you happen to be religious. I think belief in a higher power is one’s own choice and prerogative.

I instead care far more about the religious system that is using well-intended people like pawns for goals that pretty much boil down to money and power.

[seethesin]

assigned seat

pairing: Shane McCutcheon x F!Reader

tags/warnings: sexual content, established relationship, teasing, heavy petting, tickling, fingering (18+, mdni)

a/n: this is the fluff attempt. there's still smut tho... i tried my best okay 😔

You fit in Shane's lap perfectly.

It was as if your bodies were made for each other. Whenever you could, you slotted your hips against her stomach, ass dragging across her denim-clad thighs with a self-satisfied smile stretching across your lips. You did this wherever you could: in public, private, and anywhere in between.

It was the best seat in the house for a reason.

In turn, Shane loved the gentle pressure of your body on top of hers. Her chin immediately gravitated to your shoulder, fitting together like puzzle pieces. Her arms were always around you, whether they were hooked over your hips or hanging from your waist. Your radiating warmth was intoxicating; she could not keep her hands away from you no matter how hard she tried.

This was currently the position the both of you found yourselves in.

The LA sun was oppressive. A heat wave has plagued California for the last four days and thankfully, neither you nor Shane had to leave the house today. The air conditioner had been set to a relatively cool seventy-six degrees Fahrenheit as the two of you melted into each other, a mess of naked limbs on the sofa.

Not even a heat wave could tear you off your favorite seat.

Shane had a tank top on, no bra—your back has been pressed into her hardening nipples since you sat down—and briefs that were engulfed by her clothing. You settled for something simple; a sports bra and boyshorts. Neither of you cared for modesty, especially when it felt like you were bathing in your own sweat.

Her arms hung loose around you, leaning in to grab the TV remote before flicking through the channels. Her chin was planted onto your shoulder and you twisted your neck to kiss her temple.

"At some point, I'm shoving you off me," Shane breaks the silence, words dripping with playful sarcasm. It squeezes a stream of giggles from your throat as you continue to pepper kisses to the side of her face.

Her face is warm and you'd bet that it wasn't just from the heat.

"You would not, Shane; don't be so dramatic."

You miss her eyes roll, but you feel her teeth snap at the base of your neck. A smirk plays on your lips.

"Is anything on TV?" you muse, leaning back into Shane's torso. She grunts, dissenting.

A silence fills the room. Shane finally speaks, her raspy voice against your skin makes you shiver.

"Let's make our own entertainment then."

Her hand spiders down your chest, cupping your breast as her lips plant kisses across your jaw. You hum contently, hips rocking against her thighs. Shane pinches your clothed nipple, feeling it pebble underneath her touch. You moan, eyes fluttering shut as your hips arch to meet Shane's hand.

Her opposite hand glides up to give your other breast equal attention. Between the groping, pinching, and the addition of Shane's inquisitive tongue on your skin, you dissolve into a panting, needy puddle.

"Shane." It's ridiculous how little time it takes for her to reduce you to nothing. You want to hate her efficiency, but you're too busy thinking about how many times she'll make you cum instead.

"Yes?" she drawls, breathing heavily against your neck. She sucks on a bruise already forming just underneath your earlobe.

"Touch me."

"I am already. Gotta be more specific, sugar."

You squirm in her lap, pressing your hips down before grinding your cunt against her thigh. She chuckles, rich and low as the flat of her tongue smooths down your jugular.

"Touch my pussy, babe."

Thankfully, Shane can follow directions. Her dominant hand releases your breast and skitters down the bare skin of your stomach. Her touch is too light and you instinctively jerk away. It's unbearable and you start giggling all over again.

"What's so funny?" You can hear her grin.

"Nothing, it just tickles."

You don't realize the gravity of this mistake until it's too late.

Shane's arms latch around you suddenly, keeping you stationed against her chest. Her smile sears into your skin as her hands slide to your stomach. With the same, feather-light touch, her fingers begin to stroke your belly.

You try to whine, but it morphs into mirthful peels of laughter instead.

"Oh, like this?" Shane teases, deft fingertips scribbling aimless patterns on your exposed midriff. Squealing, you move to shove her hands away. Shane does not relent and she evades your attempts to grab her.

"Shane!" You're ready to beg her to stop, but you can't get another word out. Instead, your laughter fills the room, overpowering whatever reruns Shane kept on in her deep dive through the TV guide.

"What?" she mocks, maintaining the same whiny tone you've adopted minutes ago. "I thought you wanted me to touch you."

"Not like this!" you manage to gasp, squealing as she scratches a particularly sensitive spot just under your stomach.

At this point, you've given up on stopping her. When Shane wanted something, she was going to get it, no questions asked. Defeated, you slump into her torso, flinching and squeaking until Shane is satisfied. Her hands withdrew from your torso, gliding down to rest on your thighs. Her lips ghost against your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"You set yourself up for that," she taunts and you huff, a smart retort dying on your tongue. Instead, your fingers wrap around Shane's wrist, guiding her hand lower to rest on top of your clothed cunt.

You don't have to say anything else. Dexterous fingers slide under your underwear and two fingers are stroking at your slit. A curious hum falls from Shane's lips as she sheathes her fingers inside you.

"You're so wet, sugar," she croons, nibbling down the column of your neck. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you liked all that."

A strangled gasp exhales from your lips as your hips jut down. Your walls stretch to accommodate Shane's fingers and eagerly, you swivel against the newfound friction. You don't have the brain capacity at the moment to respond to her teasing.

Recovering quickly, you find your voice eventually.

"More." It's supposed to be a demand, but it comes out like a whimper. Shane complies anyway, thrusting her fingers inside you like a piston. Your hips undulate to meet her thrusts. To keep yourself steady, you grip onto her knees.

Shane's other hand travels back up your torso, fondling your breast as her mouth works on your collarbone. The combination of these sensations begins to become overstimulating. Squeezing your eyes shut, your desperate moans echo through the living room. The already scorching heat grew degrees hotter as you wheezed, the air thicker around you.

When Shane contorts her thumb to spiral around your clit, you finally cum. It's quick, sweaty, and filthy: you feel yourself gush into Shane's hand while you keen. Her fingers remain stationary as you fuck yourself through the remainder of your orgasm. Once your movements cease, she slips her fingers out gingerly before sucking them clean.

You go slack on top of Shane, trying to stabilize your heavy breathing. Her arms are back around your waist, face buried in your shoulder before she presses a firm kiss to your skin.

The both of you sit in comfortable silence.

You, however, are the first to break it. Not because you didn't want to sit in Shane's lap—it would be ridiculous to insinuate that—but because you were going to disintegrate if you didn't turn up the air conditioner.

"Baby, I love you, but I gotta—"

"Nope, completely understand." Shane releases you and you hop off your throne. Fanning yourself, you wander towards the air conditioner. Shane's next statement puts a big, dumb grin on your face.

"Hurry back, yeah?"

You didn't need to be told twice.

[sillygoose067]

Charles’s Angel(s)

Ch.34

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Charles tells you that he had some plans to add to his vlog for his Youtube channel, and asks if you’d like to come with him and appear in some clips. You agree and he makes some calls to his team. 

The two of you end up walking around the streets of LA, stopping at street vendors and talking with locals. One man even recognizes him and starts talking about how much better Formula 1 was compared to NASCAR, which was the only form of racing most Americans kept up with. Charles manages to get that on video, and you smile as you watch his excited form interact with the man. You guys stop for some ice cream when your boyfriend starts talking about how one day, he’d like to have his own ice cream business. “Why?”, you ask curiously. “I’ve always loved ice cream since childhood, so why not?”, he shrugs. Fair enough. 

Charles meets some friends who invite him to play some basketball, and goodness gracious, that man either has no awareness about you and your feelings, or he simply doesn’t care– Because after the first two shots, he takes his shirt off and continues his attempt to score. “See, I am so good, I should just switch careers and do this”, he tells the camera and proceeds to miss the hoop. His attempts go on for the next hour, and you stand at the side, watching and trying your best to not lust after him. This was normal, for god’s sake. Any sane person would forego their shirt in this LA heat during a game of b-ball. When he finally gets one shot in, he collapses to the floor dramatically. 

“Ugh. I change my mind. This is too hard.” You giggle, and he turns his head toward you. “You think you can do better?”, he tries to get under your skin. 

You grab the ball, dribble a couple of times, and shoot, half-court. You make it. Charles sits up, eyes wide in shock. “H- How did you.. What?”

You just laugh and shake your head, dribbling and doing some tricks with the ball. “Babe, you forget that I’m from this country. I went to a public school here. One of the sports required in our physical education was basketball.” You roll your eyes dribble til you are full-court, and shoot. Surprise, surprise, you make the shot again. Charles plops back down with an exasperated sigh. 

“So you stood there watching me humiliate myself this entire time when you’re much better?”, he whines.

“I didn’t want to ruin your fun”, you shrug. 

…

Finally returning to the suite was like a godsend. How was it even possible to be this hot? The European weather had spoiled you. You change into some swimwear, ready to head to the indoor pool with Charles. He exits the bathroom, changed into his swim shorts, and when he catches sight of you, his eyes travel all over you. “Love, why have you been hiding this amazing body under those clothes all this time?”

You blush. “I wasn’t hiding it. I just look and feel fat in everything else.”

He scoffs. “I call bullshit. You are so beautiful, Sweetheart. I don’t see at all how you’re fat. I think you’re actually quite fit. You should wear things that make you feel beautiful more often.”

He kisses your temple while you soak in his words, head turned away to hide your misty eyes. Even in a one-piece swimsuit, nothing overly sexy, Charles Lelclerc thought you looked beautiful and not fat. 

…

You travel to Las Vegas for the Grand Prix there, cheering Charles on from the paddock (which was somewhat poetic because that was how the two of you met). He ends up coming in P3, and although he’s disappointed in his performance, he enjoys his place on the podium. 

Especially when you race up and embrace him tightly. “I’m so proud of you Charles!”

“Thanks love. But I know I could’ve done better… if it weren’t for the engines failing me last-minute, I could have made it to P2, at least.”

“Well, what’s done is done, and it’s best to not cry over spilled milk. Let’s just go celebrate your success tonight and think about how to improve your performance later, okay?”

He pecks you gently, pulling away with a smile stretching across his face and then leaning in to kiss you again, his fingers gently sliding down from the side of your face to the back of your neck. You pull away breathlessly. “You always know the right thing to say to me, don’t you?”, he whispers. You smile up at him cheekily with a dismissive shrug. 

Carlos and Rebecca are in the opposite corner of the garage, embracing as well, when the manager comes in and summons your boyfriend and his teammate to head to the press room. 

“Go. I’ll be sitting in the audience.”

…

That night, you go out to dinner with Carlos, Max, and Lando– kind of like a triple date, but with Lando 7th wheeling. The boys are fascinated to hear about what you do as a career and ask if you’re willing to show them the ropes sometime. “Of course! Although, I haven’t even been able to bring Charles to my studio yet, so maybe that will need to be put on hold for a bit.”

…

With the race over, you and Charles had some time on your hands, so as planned before, you travel up north to the Bay Area and stop by beaches with Carlos and Pierre, and some hidden gems that you knew of (because you’re from the place and your family traveled a lot).

After a tiring 48 hours of navigating the Californian traffic, you finally arrive at your childhood home. Ding dong, you ring the bell. 

The door opens and your sister peeks her head through the small gap. “Hi!”

“Didi (honorific for older sisters)! You’re here! With… With Charles Leclerc!”

“Hello…”, Charles greets your sister hesitantly. She beams at him. 

“Maaa! Didi’s here!”

After a great big welcome and some introductions, your mother settles you and Charles into your childhood bedroom. He walks around in awe. “I don’t know what I expected, but it certainly wasn’t this.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”, you ask nervously biting your lips. 

“Definitely in a good way. You never cease to amaze me, love.”

Lunch with your family is fulfilling and Charles learns many new things about his palate and Indian food– mostly that there’s no generic Indian cuisine, but there are so many different types, dishes, and flavors. “I think I’m in love. I’ll never have a different food again”, he says after having some daal (lentil soup), rice, and fish and potato fries. You laugh. 

“Charles, this is literally just some household staple food, it’s not even a delicacy.”

“If these are this good already, the delicacies must be heavenly.”

Your dad and Charles bond over sports and music, and by the time you need to leave at the end of the week, you have a feeling your family loves your boyfriend more than they love you.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for essentially making my friends be people's therapists?

(TW for discussion of suicide and self harm, nothing explicit)

This happened many years ago, when my friends and I were 13/14 and this went on for about a year. I had started a public discord server and, seeing how other public discord servers were functioning at the time, I added a vent channel. In retrospect, I have absolutely no idea why these exist in public servers, it's so clearly a recipe for disaster, but I digress. I only added it because I saw so many other public discords have a vent channel and I assumed it would be an outlet for people to vent out their simple frustrations of the day, nothing more than that.

Anyways, it was fine for a while but as our server grew in numbers, we started getting some members who would frequent the vent channel with very serious things. There are two who stand out to me in particular because of the amount of, well, emotional labor we had to do for them. My friends were moderators of the server (I had asked them when it started if they would like to be mods and they had agreed to this, and they were always free to step down, which some did) and so we liked to make sure our members were happy and okay so a lot of us tried to respond and help people in the vent channel, especially if it was something serious. Here's where the problem comes in.

There were many, many times we had to essentially try to talk down different members from suicide and self harm. We always had online resources for suicide/self harm help pinned in the channel, and we always urged people to seek them out but some people refused to use them or just ignored them. They would vent in the channel and say something drastic and we would rush to try and talk to them, to make sure they didn't do anything irreversible. It got to the point where we considered calling the police for one of them, but the person eventually said they were okay and we dropped it. We often stayed up late (I remember one night staying up until 1 am trying to help people with 3 of my friends) and sometimes we had to drop everything we were doing to try and help.

I understand now that that wasn't really our responsibility to help these people and we were absolutely not qualified, but in the moment we were just scared teens trying to do our best. The part where I'm worried I'm TA is that I'm definitely the one who created this situation by making the server's vent channel in the first place, and not taking it down at any point during all of that (it has since been deleted but the server is effectively shut down) even though I could clearly see the toll it was taking on my friends and I (I didn't keep it up for malicious intent I just didn't want to take that potential outlet away from people). Also, I worry we hurt these people more than helped them since we were just random middle schoolers trying to give mental health counseling to Internet strangers.

I've talked to my friends about it since then and we've all just agreed that it's something that happened we can't change now, and we should just move on, but I'm still unsure about the situation since my perspective is too entrenched in bias on whether or not this is all my fault.

So, AITA for creating the situation in the first place and letting it continue?

What are these acronyms?

[readingunderstars]

Blue Dream - Two

Sypnosis: After a tense conversation with Julian, Ria encounters Ellie at Sasha’s party.

Warnings: 18+!! recreational drug use, underage drinking, cheating, sexual content

Word Count: 5.6k

⊰✭⊱

Ria awoke the following morning to the sound of her phone ringing. Groaning, she dragged her arms around the bed, trying to locate the source of the worst possible sound on Earth. Uncovering it from the sheets, Ria squinted her eyes and found Julian’s face on the screen. It was a photo from freshman year of high school, never updated. Ria answered the call.

“Hello?” she said, a croak coming out instead of her voice.

“Whoa,” Julian laughed. “Good morning, sir.”

“Morning,” she said, laying her head down on the pillow. She checked the time. 7:03 AM. Ria had to remind herself that Julian was three hours ahead, and tried not to be mad that he woke her up so early on a Saturday. “How are you?”

“Great,” he said, but Ria could tell he was itching to talk about something. Indeed, he went on. “Hey, I’m at this travel agency booking a cruise for my uncle’s birthday. We wanted to know if you want to come, too.”

“Uh . . . ” Ria’s eyes fought to stay open. “When would it be?”

“Late June to early July, we haven’t settled—“

“Oh.” Ria sat up at once and rubbed her eyes. “I can’t.”

“Why? Is your passport expiring or something? I’m sure we could—“

“No, my passport is fine.” You’ve put it off long enough. There won’t be a perfect time. Just say it.

“Are you getting a summer job?”

“I mean—“ Say it. “Well,” she started, but it wasn’t coming out.

“What is it?” he said.

Ria took a deep breath. “I got into the Monterey program. I won’t be going home for summer break.”

A moment passed before Julian spoke again. “What?”

“The school offered me a position in their marine biology summer program in—“

“Are you serious?”

She didn’t know what to think of his reactions. Ria couldn’t tell if he was happy or upset, so she simply said, “Yes.”

Julian remained silent.

Ria’s heart beat hard against her chest. “Can you say something?”

“I just want to get this clear,” he said slowly. “You’re choosing to spend a year away. On purpose. Correct?”

“Julian, I’ve told you about this program before—“

“I know you fucking told me, Ria. I just didn’t think you’d get in.”

Standing up from her bed, Ria stayed in silent bewilderment.

“And the saddest part is you probably don’t care whether you see me or not. So fine, run off with all the other fucking nerds—“

“That’s enough, Julian,” Ria said, crossing her arms despite him not being able to see. “This has nothing to do with us. I know you know I could never forgive myself if I let an opportunity like this simply pass me by.”

“Whatever. I have to go,” he said as his end of the call became noisy with the voices of his family. “We’ll discuss it later.”

“No—“

Julian ended the call.

“Fuck!” Ria cursed, and threw her phone against the bed. It bounced off, landing on the floor with a deafening crack. Closing her eyes, Ria scrambled to the floor, praying to every god that would listen. But the screen was shattered, only lighting up in fragments. 

Already prepared for the day to end, Ria fell on her mattress, face against her pillow. She took a deep breath in, and—with all her might—screamed into the pillow.

Dragging herself out of the dorm, Ria found solace in a study room deep within the bowels of the library stacks. She channeled all her anger into something useful. It was tedious work, especially the lab reports, but it was a welcome distraction. Julian would certainly not be the reason she fell behind on her schoolwork.

It took until midday to finish all her work for the next few days. She packed up her things and headed back to the dorm, finding the phone still lying on the ground. Ria picked it up, weighing her options.

Valerie College was in the middle of nowhere, and there was no good public transportation during weekends. The only person she knew with a car was AJ, but even if he wanted to drive her, they had both agreed to help with the party.

Until tomorrow it is.

Opening her closet, Ria dug out the duffel that had been in her possession since middle school and set it on the bed. She packed everything she’d need for the party and to stay overnight at the suite.

She passed by Hungry Mind, the cafe on campus, and picked up a cake pop for Sasha. Pressing her ID against the scanner, Ria pushed the door to Cedar Hall open. Music seeped through the door to the suite, and Ria found Sasha and all her suite mates gathered on the living room floor.

A tub of fried chicken sat on the coffee table, and they all sat on the ground around it. They looked up as Ria entered the suite, greeting her warmly.

There was Rosa Molina, of course, an expert knitter with Salvadorian parentage. Her Barbie doll of a roommate was Madi Jones. She was from Southern California, just like Sasha. Isla Kenney had come straight from Manchester to play for the school’s D1 women’s volleyball team, becoming their captain in under two years. Isla was dating Esther, who was not currently present but happened to be the childhood best friend of Quinn Xie, Isla’s roommate. They’d been born and raised just a few miles away in San Francisco.

“I was wondering if you really did get kidnapped,” Sasha said, standing to greet Ria, a party hat upon her head.

“Oh, sorry,” Ria said, “I got them, I got stoned, and then my phone broke this morning. But never mind that.” Extending her arm to show Sasha the cake pop, she said, “Happy birthday, darling! You can finally drink!”

“Legally,” Sasha said behind her hand, laughing. “And I’m sorry to hear about your phone. Come sit.”

Waving to the rest of them, Ria settled beside Isla, leaning against the couch. “What’s up, mate?” Isla said, offering a fist bump. She was one of those people who were so cool they made Ria nervous. Ria watched as she ran her fingers through her long, red hair.

“So did you talk to your boyfriend yet?” Madi asked from across the coffee table, snapping Ria out of her daze. She stared at Madi, her brown eyes bewildered. Madi stared back, unfazed until Quinn snorted, and they all burst into laughter.

Heat rose to Ria’s cheeks as she looked to Sasha for an explanation. How do they know about the Julian thing?

“We all know,” Isla said as Sasha shrugged away her culpability.

If it had been anyone else, Ria might have been angry that her personal matters were shared. But it was Sasha. It was so like her to share everything with this lot. “Letting this go only because it’s your birthday,” Ria joked, but she knew the truth—she’d forgive anything of her.

Ria sighed. “And yes, I did talk to Julian.” Sasha’s eyes widened, and she sat up. “It’s actually how I broke my phone. Sort of threw it in a fit of rage.”

“Damn,” Rosa said, sipping from her cup. “That bad?”

Ria nodded, kind of defeated. Quinn wrapped their arm over Ria’s shoulders. “I’m sorry, Ria.”

“Dump him,” Madi said, and Ria chuckled. It lightened the mood, bringing some cheers of agreement. “No man is worth a broken phone.”

“You should switch over to my team,” Isla said, winking. Somehow, Ria knew she didn’t mean volleyball.

Rosa stood up, starting to clean up. “How do you know she isn’t already on it?”

“I mean,” Isla inspected Ria’s appearance, and the other eyes joined hers. “Are you?”

Ria laughed nervously under their scrutiny, but didn’t give an answer. 

“She doesn’t look particularly gay to me,” Madi said.

As the group threw itself into a discussion, their eyes drifted away, and Ria listened in amusement.

“I’m sorry, does ‘gay’ look like something specific to you?” Isla said, standing up.

“Yeah, your face.”

“She definitely doesn’t look like Isla.”

“No, but she does wear tote bags.”

“Those are gay.”

“Sasha? Has she ever said anything gay to you?”

“I have the right to remain silent.”

“Fuck. Quinn, do you think she’s gay?”

“Honestly, I could see it.”

“Wait. Do you own anything Lululemon?”

“Actually, I once hooked up with a Lululemon lesbian.”

“Pause. That’s crazy.”

“Was she, like, old or something?”

“No, she was our age.”

“Fascinating.”

“Alright, that’s enough speculation,” Sasha said. “Whether she’s gay or not, we have shit to do, people.”

“Happy birthday, Sashalicious,” AJ yelled as he walked into the suite, carrying a large speaker. He placed it on the kitchenette counter. “Who’s gay?”

“You,” Ria said, kissing her brother’s cheek. She looked at the speaker. “Is this Papi’s?”

“Dang, Mr. Ortiz got that fancy shit,” Madi said, examining the piece of technology.

AJ leaned against the counter. “I knew you’d like it.”

Ria rolled her eyes and yanked her brother away from the counter, dragging him to the table where Sasha stood with everyone else.

Behind Ria, Quinn whispered to Isla. “Bet you ten she’s gay.” Sasha shushed them before beginning her speech.

“Here’s the game plan. Isla and AJ are doing the shopping. While they’re away, we’re cleaning, rearranging furniture, and decorating. We’re gonna make sure our rooms are presentable. I’m looking at you,” she said to Quinn. “Cup pong is going to be in your room, flip cup in Rosa and Madi’s.”

“What about yours?” Ria asked.

“It’ll be the crash pad,” she said. Ria thought of Halle, who always tapped out the earliest. “Anyway, when Isla and AJ get back, we need to make the spiked freeze pops. Jamie made jello shots, so we are good on that. Then we go out for dinner, come back and get ready. Pregame is at 9. Party starts at 10. Let’s go, people.”

The preparations went exactly as Sasha had planned. Ria helped clean up Isla’s side of the room. The furniture in the living room was moved up against the walls, leaving more room to dance. They set up tables for the drinking games, and put up the golden decorations all over the suite. Heading down the street, they ate noodles and sang a song for Sasha’s birthday, and by 9 pm the shots were being poured in the living room.

Ria stood in the suite bathroom, applying mascara with her cheek nearly touching the mirror. Stepping away, she scrunched her curls, shaping them until she was satisfied. Her mind drifted back to what Madi had said. Dump him. She was joking, Ria was sure.

It hadn’t crossed her mind until then, and now it was all that occupied it. Julian had been a part of Ria’s life since she was fourteen, since her mother married Tom and they all moved next-door to Julian’s family. He’d been her best friend for so many years, kept her company. They didn’t have a whirlwind romance, sure, but she didn’t mind that. Everyone loved him, and he loved Ria so deeply.

But the Julian she had spoken to that morning wasn’t the same Julian she knew. Maybe they’d spent too much time apart. They were getting farther from finding a balance, and she wasn’t blind to her own indifference when it came to the distance.

Ria smoothed the fabric of her beige cargo pants over her legs. She turned, taking one last look at her outfit. The top had been a lucky find at Goodwill, a blue, sheer top straight out of a Y2K daydream.

The living room was growing louder with the arrival of their friends. Inside Sasha’s room, Ria put away her things and kicked the duffel bag under the bed as a precaution. She didn’t want any stray partygoers going through her things.

Sasha walked into the room, holding a heap of green yarn. “What’s that?” Ria said.

“Rosa’s gift,” Sasha said, laying it out on her bed. It was a tube top, loosely knit with sequins sparsely placed. Several straps connected it to a shrug in the same style. It looked like something out of a fairytale. “I’m wearing it.”

Sasha pulled her top off at once and Ria chortled, looking away as she put on Rosa’s creation. Through the window, Ria could see the corner of Ellie’s truck.

“How is it?”

Ria spun to look at her. It was simply beautiful, the color complimenting the brown of Sasha’s skin. “You look like a mermaid,” Ria said, twirling Sasha’s hair in her hands, arranging the waves over her shoulders. “Hey, I wanted to ask—do you know an Ellie Williams? At least, I think that’s her last name.”

“Ellie?” Sasha said, stepping toward the floor-length mirror behind her door. “We had a class together. Why?”

“She was Murphy’s friend from yesterday.”

Sasha examined her appearance in the mirror. “Now that I think about it, I did know she dealt. I’ve heard quite a bit about her.”

Ria sat on the bed. “Like what?”

“Well,” Sasha said, and touched up her lip gloss. “She’s cool, but apparently, every time Ellie walks into a room someone leaves crying.”

“No way,” Ria said, laughing. She pictured Ellie, her relaxed manner in the stash room. 

Sasha shrugged. “Just what I heard,” she said. “Now, I want you to make an effort and not let this Julian stuff ruin your night. It’s my birthday wish.”

“Fine,” Ria said, grabbing the paper bag with the pre-rolls. “Let’s go, birthday girl.”

The pregame went as it usually did—the weed was distributed, Halle and Katherine were almost an hour late, and the blue freeze pops were the first to go.

Ria was four Berry Blue jello shots deep when the first large group arrived. It was a mix of Valerie sports teams, all there because of Isla. Already, the space felt tight. And it was only 10:30.

Quinn turned the music up. Isla sat on the couch with Esther on her lap, eating each other’s faces. Katherine and Jamie played cup pong as people watched. AJ was in charge of the door, and Madi had a horde of guys hanging on her every word. 

Ria watched them all as she nursed a grape freeze pop, twisting the promise ring around her finger. Rosa poured a couple of shots on the drinks table next to Ria. She gifted her one.

“Thanks,” Ria said, and nodded toward Madi and her horde. “Might have to go rescue her soon.”

“She’s fine, they’re talking robotics,” Rosa said, and raised her shot glass. 

Ria raised hers. Together, they chanted. “Pa’ arriba, pa’ abajo, pa’l centro y pa’ dentro.” They drank at the same time, grimacing as the tequila hit their tongues and burned its way down to their stomachs.

“Puñeta,” Ria cursed, squeezing out more of the freeze pop to offer some relief. Rosa downed a shot of pink lemonade as a chaser.

By the time the hum of alcohol was in full force, Ria had taken to the dance floor. She could feel the music vibrating in her chest, and as Bad Bunny’s only merengue song started playing, she dropped her jaw and looked at AJ.

He screamed as the partygoers cheered. It was a popular song, but Ria and AJ were Puerto Rican born and raised. Bad Bunny was theirs.

AJ ran to grab Ria’s hands as she laughed, and they let the fast tempo of the music set the pace. Ria moved her hips and let AJ guide her movements with his arms, just as their father had taught her. They were synchronized, and with just a shift of his hand, she knew to turn. Merengue was among their favorites to dance together, a push and pull of rhythm that was infectious.

Rosa and her boyfriend joined them, along with a few of the others who knew how to dance. They were in their own little bubble of Latin American bliss. Ria couldn’t stop smiling as she sang the lyrics.

Between the alcohol, the dancing, and the heat of a packed room, a sheen of sweat began to form over Ria’s skin. Still, she was sad when the song ended. AJ bowed when it was over, and snuck away into the crowd to do God-knows-what.

Ria’s head spun. She needed a breather. Two hands grabbed her shoulders. “RIA!” She jumped, startled until she saw it was Sasha.

“What?” Ria asked loudly.

“Look!” Sasha yelled, and pointed at something. Ria followed her finger, trying to focus through her drunken haze. “It’s your dealer!” Then she saw her.

Listening as a girl with bright pink hair talked to her, Ellie leaned against the wall, a bottle of Smirnoff seltzer in hand. Her hair was down this time, the short strands tousled into a soft shag. Boxers peeked beneath low-rise jeans, and a tank top left her arms exposed. Ria might not have recognized her had it not been for the tattoo. She tore her eyes away.

“I don’t see anyone crying,” Ria said, taking a deep breath. She was still winded.

“Yet,” Sasha said and stood up straighter, slapping Ria’s arm. “She’s coming.”

Ria scoffed, not believing her until she turned, Ellie’s face mere inches away.

She smiled down at Ria, her hands in her pockets. “Hey.” Ellie turned to Sasha as Ria took a step back. “Happy birthday. Nice party.”

“Thanks!” Sasha replied, then pointed behind her. “I’m gonna go dance.” And she was gone.

Neither of them spoke at first.

“What now?” Ria said suddenly.

“What?” Ellie said, leaning closer.

“You wished her a happy birthday,” she replied, reminding her of what she’d said the previous day.

Ellie chuckled, furrowing her brows. “That’s not all I came for,” she said.

Ria’s heart raced as Ellie’s words hung between them. She told herself it was all the dancing.

“Come smoke with me,” she said. “I owe you a few hits.”

Ellie considered it, rubbing the back of her neck as she looked to where the girl with pink hair still stood. She shook impatiently, her eyes on the two of them. Slowly, Ria realized Ellie had left the girl mid-conversation.

“Unless your girlfriend is waiting on you,” Ria said, tilting her head to the side.

Setting her gaze back on Ria, Ellie leaned even closer. “I don’t have a girlfriend.” Pulling back, she spoke again, louder. “Lead the way.”

On the way to Sasha’s room, Ria spotted her dancing with AJ. She laughed to herself, shaking her head. The last time she had seen her brother this excited about someone was with this girl called Marlene, but that ended pretty badly. At least for now, AJ was just having fun. She opened the door to Sasha’s dorm, and Ellie followed her into the room.

The moonlit serenity of Sasha’s bedroom was stark against the chaos in the living room. The closed door didn’t shut out the sound, but it made the party feel far away. Ria unlatched the window and pushed it open, letting the chill of the night cool her warm face. Small groups stood outside in the fog, chatting quietly or smoking. Some walked toward Cedar hall, searching for the party.

Sitting on the bench which Sasha had bought for this very purpose, Ria pulled the tube out of her pocket. She squeezed the top until the lid popped open, flipping it over as the pre-roll slid into her palm.

Ellie sat facing her, one knee up against the windowsill. Ria held the joint between her teeth as she looked for her lighter.

Something clicked, and a flame sparked between Ellie’s fingers, emanating from that same silver lighter in her hand. Ria leaned forward, letting the fire consume the twisted tip of the joint. Ellie’s eyes didn’t leave hers as she inhaled the smoke, blowing it out the window.

When she passed the joint to Ellie, Ria’s fingers brushed hers. She took a long puff and released it through her nose, the smoke floating lazily around her. “Was that Alejandro I saw you dancing with?”

Ria nodded. “You know my brother?” 

“You could say so,” she said. “You’re a . . . junior?”

“Sophomore.”

Ellie nodded, taking another hit before handing the joint back. “You declared your major yet?”

“As soon as I got here,” Ria said, smiling as she watched Ellie hold back a laugh. Most people waited until their second year, but Ria had been a bit overexcited. “What do you study?”

“Art,” she said, and Ria looked to Ellie’s green house, at the painted pots that sat in the darkness of her porch. “You?”

Ria smoked. “Biology,” she said, trying not to cough as she passed the joint to Ellie, “with a focus on marine biology.”

Ellie raised her eyebrows. “You into clams or something?”

Ria giggled, the effect of the weed starting to mix with the alcohol. “No,” she said. “I’m more of a sea turtle girl.”

“I see,” Ellie said, eyeing Ria. “How’d that happen?”

Watching her for a moment, Ria smiled softly. The memory played in her mind. She smelled the ocean, heard her parents laughing, her brother shushing them. They were so little, only seven and nine, but back then AJ felt so much older. It was the last time they were all together like that. Something too close to her heart, Ria thought. “I’ve only ever told two people.”

Ellie sighed as the joint went out, lighting it again. “And who has the honor of knowing?” She was digging for something, but Ria couldn’t be sure what it was.

“Sasha,” Ria said, “and . . .” She paused, suddenly feeling strange about answering the question. Sasha and Julian. The events of that morning rushed back into her mind and left a sour taste in her mouth. Did she want to tell her about Julian? Why wouldn’t she want to tell Ellie about her boyfriend? She’d told everyone else just fine, and Ellie wasn’t special. No reason not to say it.

“My boyfriend.”

For some reason, Ria searched Ellie’s face for a reaction. There was nothing. And there shouldn’t have been. Was she expecting something from her? What is going on with you?

The questions in her mind were growing too loud. As her brain started to fog, Ria propped her head on her hand.

Taking another hit, Ellie inched closer. “Where is this boyfriend of yours?”

Ria watched her carefully. Ellie’s eyes looked soft in the dimness of the room. “Not here,” Ria said. Their faces were so close.

Ellie held the now-roach up to Ria’s lips, and she took one last puff as the fire grew dangerously close to Ellie’s fingers. With her other hand, Ellie took Ria’s chin and leaned in, opening her mouth. Slowly, Ria released the smoke into it, not quite touching Ellie’s lips.

Ellie blew out the smoke, and a grin spread across her features.

The door to the room opened, and the party lights broke the intimacy of the moment. Esther stumbled through the door, laughing as Isla—who appeared painfully sober—and Quinn followed her in. Esther stopped in her tracks at the sight of the two of them by the window. “Oh my God, is that Ellie?” she said, slurring her words as Isla ushered her to the bed.

“Hey, Esther,” Ellie said softly, raising her hand in greeting.

“Sorry guys, she’s a little too drunk,” Quinn said, pulling the covers away for Esther to lie down.

Pulling herself to her feet, Ellie stood before Ria, their knees knocking. Ria looked up at her, her head spinning. Ellie held out her hand. “Let’s go dance.”

Behind her, Quinn and Isla gave each other a look. Aware of their attention, Ria decided to let them settle their bet.

Taking her hand, Ria let Ellie pull her up, their bodies so close Ria could smell her cologne. It was subtle, woodsy with hints of jasmine. Ria tried to ignore the way her hand felt in Ellie’s.

Stepping backward, Ellie led Ria across the room and out of Sasha’s dorm, her eyes never straying from Ria’s. Before the door closed, she heard Quinn say, “Pay up, bitch.”

If the living room had been packed before, Ria didn’t know what to call this. There were more bodies in the space than she even thought possible. Ellie worked her way through them.

Several people—mostly girls—greeted her as they passed, completely ignoring Ria. A blonde was particularly touchy, her hands grabbing Ellie’s waist. She pulled away smoothly, waving goodbye as she dragged Ria along. Ria waved, too.

Somewhere near the center of the room, she stopped. The crowd around them was so tight they were forced together. “Was that another one of your not-girlfriends?” Ria asked, struggling to keep her body from touching Ellie’s.

Ellie laughed, rubbing her neck. Ria stared at her tattoo—two ferns and a moth, spreading so far down her forearm that a few of the leaves reached the back of her hand. Ria wondered if it had a meaning. “Sure,” she replied, but Ria had forgotten the question.

“You seem to know everyone,” she said.

“Perks of the trade.”

Ria couldn’t hear the music anymore, too high to make out any melody over all the noise. But the others could, screaming as they recognized another song. They moved around her, body slamming against body, jumping and stepping every which way. Ria stumbled, but Ellie took her hips, steadying her.

“Thanks,” Ria said, but her hands didn’t leave. She looked up at her, and neither looked away.

Every person in the room screamed the lyrics to the song. Ria didn’t care to decipher the words anymore. It didn’t matter. Ellie pulled her closer, moving their bodies to the music as Ria blindly followed. Her skin prickled under Ellie’s touch, her hands tracing the curve of Ria’s waist. 

Leaning closer, Ellie looked at Ria’s lips. Ria’s eyes flickered to hers, and her stomach twisted when she realized what had crossed her mind. She pulled away and immediately missed the feeling of Ellie’s hands on her. The revelation disgusted her. 

She’d danced with people at parties before. Hell, she’d probably done worse with Sasha. But this felt different. This felt wrong. She liked it too much. Her entire body itched. 

“I need to use the bathroom,” Ria lied, and Ellie furrowed her brows. Before she could say anything, Ria pushed her way out of Ellie’s sight.

The way to the bathroom felt endless as Ria fought to squeeze between the crowd. It was growing too hot, and she wanted to claw at her throat. She burst out of the mass of bodies, gasping for air. The small hallway to the bathroom was empty, much to her surprise, but the door was locked. Ria knocked, and upon hearing a response, leaned against the wall to calm down.

She stared at her shoes as she waited, the seconds stretching into what felt like hours. A pair of converse stepped into her view of the floor, and she looked up. Ellie leaned against the wall across the doorframe, in the same manner as Ria.

“What are you doing?” Ria said, standing up straight.

Ellie shrugged. “Just waiting for the bathroom.”

Ria shook her head, scoffing as she took to the wall again. She was watching her, Ria knew. The toilet flushed inside the bathroom, and she looked up. Ellie’s eyes burned through her, so intensely it made Ria’s knees weak.

The door opened, and a guy walked out, leaving them alone in the hallway.

Gesturing toward the bathroom, Ellie spoke. “Go right ahead.”

This time it was Ria who shrugged. “Fine,” she said, and stepped inside, pushing the door closed.

But it didn’t close.

Ellie pushed it open, slipping in and closing the door herself, locking it behind her.

She moved closer, and Ria didn’t step back. Her hands found Ria’s waist again, and she didn’t protest. “Ria,” she whispered, their noses grazing as she tasted the sound. “Tell me your name.”

Ria’s heart raced, and suddenly the party—her life—was in a different universe altogether. Nothing outside of that door was real. Only the two of them existed. Only her. Her breath on Ria’s cheek. Her cologne. Her lips grazing hers.

“Maria Celeste,” she whispered.

Ellie smiled softly. “Maria Celeste,” she repeated, and pressed her lips to Ria’s. Her kiss was warm, gentler than Ria had ever known. Breathing in her scent, Ria snuck her hand behind Ellie’s neck, pulling her closer. Parting her lips, Ellie’s tongue found Ria’s, deepening the kiss. 

Allowing her hands to explore her, Ria dragged her fingers down Ellie’s abdomen, running over the taut muscle beneath her shirt. She sighed against Ria, and their kisses grew hungrier. 

Ria stumbled back against the counter as Ellie pressed herself against her. She looked down, parting Ria’s legs with her knee, placing her thigh between them. With every kiss, she rolled her hips against her, setting Ria’s core on fire. 

Lifting the fabric of Ellie’s tank, Ria pulled it as far as Ellie would let her. But she didn’t stop her, only pulling away to take the shirt off. Ria’s eyes lingered on her exposed chest, and Ellie chuckled softly before kissing her again, harder. 

Her hands were all over Ria, grasping at her hips, snaking under her shirt. She squeezed her breast, moaning softly into her mouth. She hadn’t been touched like this in so long, never felt so needed. Ria found the button of Ellie’s jeans, beginning to undo it. “Don’t.” She took Ria’s hand, stopping her. Ria pulled away to look at her. Ellie smiled in the dim light. She kissed Ria’s neck, her own hands unzipping Ria’s pants. “I’m good.”

Her fingers slithered beneath her underwear, and Ellie groaned against Ria. “You’re so wet,” she whispered next to her ear as her fingertips stroked the tender spot.

“What did you expect?” Ria breathed.

Ellie grabbed her face with her free hand, kissing Ria deeply as her fingers set a steady rhythm. The room grew hotter with every breath, but not in the same sticky way as it was outside. Ria liked this—loved the heat that formed between them. Her face grew hot, heart pounding in her chest as she breathed harder. It only spurred Ellie on, applying more pressure.

A haze of pleasure clouded Ria’s already fading mind, and her hands clutched the edge of the bathroom counter, begging for something to ground her. Ellie started moving farther down and slipping her fingers inside her, sending waves of ecstasy through Ria. She was all she could hear, smell, feel—and God, she felt so good. Ria arched against her, writhing with her touch, desperate for release.

A knock came at the door. Ria’s eyes fluttered open, but all she could see was Ellie, and she wasn’t stopping. She brought a finger up to her lips, shushing Ria softly as her hand sped up. Ria opened her mouth, wanting to scream as her legs clenched.

Ellie kissed her again, silencing any sound that might’ve found its way out. The knocking resumed, louder now, and Ellie pressed against her, moving faster yet. Ria dug her fingers in her hair as Ellie pushed her over the edge, her knees buckling as climax shook through her.

It took every fiber of her being to keep from making noise, breathing heavily as she leaned her forehead against Ellie’s.

“There you go,” Ellie said, holding Ria upright as her body threatened to crumble.

“Fuck,” she breathed, and Ellie planted tender kisses down her neck.

She was still coming down from the high when the knocking intensified, the handle rattling as someone yelled from the other side. “Hellooo?” 

Ellie finally reacted, looking at the door.

Suddenly the universe inside the bathroom collapsed, and reality rushed back to Ria. She was still foggy from the substances, but growing more and more sober with the thought of what she had just done.

Ellie’s hands held her hips, and Ria stared at her unbuttoned pants in disbelief, shocked by her own behavior. Julian’s face appeared in her mind. He might not have been the perfect boyfriend, but they were still together. He didn’t deserve this. Ria’s stomach turned. “Fuck,” she said, her head spinning.

Looking at her, Ellie opened her mouth to say something before she saw the panic in Ria’s eyes. Her words caught, and Ria had a feeling she knew exactly what Ria was thinking.

Pulling away, Ria zipped up her pants, stumbling on Ellie’s shirt. “I should go,” she said, reaching down to pick it up and hand it to her.

“Uh.” Ellie quickly pulled the tank top over her head. “Okay.”

Ria walked past her toward the door, and Ellie took her hand. “Ria,” she said, but Ria couldn’t bear to look at her. It would only make her want more. She needed to leave Ellie’s presence.

“I’m sorry,” Ria told her, not knowing what else to say. Unlocking the door, she faced whoever she assumed had been knocking. They said something, but Ria didn’t stay long enough to hear it. 

She threw herself into the crowd again and burst into Sasha’s room. The window was still open, and she stepped quietly past Esther—and now Halle, as she predicted—to reach it. Climbing on top of the bench where Ellie and she had sat, Ria swung her feet over the windowsill, dropping half a foot onto the soft grass.

The fog was thicker now, diffusing the street lights of campus. Ria’s feet carried her to the green, and she laid down on the grass beneath Old Tree. Breathing in the cold night air, she let it cool her inebriated mind.

This was a fucking mess. She didn’t know how to fix it, or if it could even be fixed. Either way, she had to fix her phone first.

⊰✭⊱

Notes: this has been a long time coming (sorry!!) but thank you for reading! more to come soon

The art for this chapter is NSFW so do with that information as you will.

https://imgur.com/a/bathroom-yJFLHom

[thepaperpanda]

I Want To Be A YouTuber || Venom & Eddie Brock drabble

Summary: In response to Venom's demands, Eddie creates a YouTube channel

Warnings: none, just Venom being insistent 😁

Word count: 1067

Authors: Cass & Rouge

Although Venom was persistent, he was the only one who persuaded Eddie Brock to do dumb things. Eddie always listened to Venom primarily to make him shut his mouth and hush him; it never lasted more than a few minutes. Eddie was this time persuaded by Venom to start a YouTube channel.

Venom exhorted Eddie, "We're unusual! Take us to the world. We'll be famous like Kim Kardashian!"

Eddie finally agreed to Venom's idea after almost two weeks. "I can't believe we are doing this..." Eddie muttered as he set up the camera and the background. The youtubers he saw all had nice backgrounds. "I am really unsure about this, V... What are we even gonna record?"

"You must introduce yourself, punk," Venom instructed firmly and loudly. "You must explain who you are and why you are opening the channel," symbiote responded. You wanna get some pussies? Don't get in front of the camera with that stupid grin of yours. You have to present like a cool, bad guy. Girls like bad boys. Say something like ‘Yo, I'm Eddie Brock and I've gotta show you what I got after that fucking meteor hit our planet’, yeah?" Venom joked. "Like cool banditos, yeah?" Symbiote advised. “We’ll be recording us. We’re cool, yeah?”

"There's no way I know how, but I'm gonna say you watch too much YouTube," Eddie pointed out.

As Eddie sat in front of the camera, he turned it on and began recording. "Hello! I'm Eddie, and welcome to my channel! Many of you may wonder why I have a channel, but I'm special in some way since I have this little buddy," Eddie said as he tapped his shoulder.

Out of nowhere, Venom appeared, grinning to the camera and licking his fangs. "Hello there, punks, I'm Venom and I'd love to meet you all, especially your lungs, brains and livers. But that's a story for another time. In today's episode, we're going to demonstrate our awesome abilities by eating bad guys."

Eddie glared at the symbiote. "Venom... Really? You can't be that aggressive. We need to be nice and likable so people will watch us."

"Don't worry, we know our role," Venom reminded and his tone softened. "So once again, we are soft Symbiotes, we came from outer space and we're happy we found him," Venom said, pointing his head to Eddie. "He's a dumbass, but we love him."

As Eddie hugged Venom, he said, "He is an asshole, but I love him so much. He can be rude, but he is a great friend."

Venom's head was petted; Eddie earned a low grunt of happiness from the symbiote.

"I hope you'll enjoy our channel and whatever we do here," Eddie added, smiling to the camera.

As Venom licked Eddie's cheek, he added, "We'll prank people in public."

"I don't think this will be possible, V. I have a job, I can't run around and prank people then upload them on the internet," Eddie said, turning off the camera. "Now I just have to edit it and it will be ready to be posted on our YouTube channel."

In response, Venom nuzzled Eddie and added, "Edit it as soon as possible."

Eddie nodded, "I'll deal with this now. I have nothing better to do," he grabbed his camera and walked to his computer.

Venom asked, "Can you give us that delicious cheese you have in the fridge first, punk?"

"I'd appreciate it if you left me something to eat, too," Eddie gave Venom a careful glance.

In order to get his cheese, Venom disconnected from Eddie and crawled to the fridge

The camera was connected to Eddie's computer when he commented, "You look funny, V." As he waited for Venom to return, he began editing the video.

After gliding back to Eddie, Venom climbed onto his back.

Eddie petting Venom's head asked, "Are you happy now? I am almost done."

Venom held a piece of cheese in his paws and chewed it. “Eddie, you edit it? We'd like to see it. And yes, it's fine now. Cheese was tasty."

"Yes. I am done," Brock presented the video to Venom.

Venom's white eyes widened as he exclaimed, "We can upload it! Look, Eddie, we look like a top model. I meant us, not you, but you do look great too. Upload, upload!"

Eddie laughed, "Yes, we do look like Top Model." He quickly uploaded the video. "Let's go eat something now. We will check the reactions tomorrow morning."

____________________________

The next morning Venom awoke as first, although this time he was disconnected from Eddie. He was still nuzzling the man's shoulder. "Eddie, get up, get up. It's morning! We have to check reactions!" Symbiote licked Eddie's cheek as soon as he opened his eyes.

As Eddie sat up and rubbed his eyes, he murmured, "Wait... Wait... Just let me wake up." In a few minutes, Brock got up from bed and opened his laptop, sluggishly turning it on.

"C'mon, punk, we can't wait!"

Eddie yawned and opened the page with their video, then scrolled through the comments at the bottom.

Venom stared at the man, asking, "What, and what, do they think we're ready to start yet?!"

Eddie muttered, "Well... The comments aren't really nice... Read them yourself, V."

As Venom read, he became more enraged. “What a nasty, fucking shits. Can we eat them?!"

"No, Venom, just forget about this idea, and let's stick to the newspaper," Eddie sighed.

"No, no, no. We've got to eat them. We've got to eat those fuckers," Venom claimed, showing his fangs.

"No, Venom. We only eat bad guys, not people who dislike us."

"When they don't like us, that means they're mean. That's what makes them haters. Haters are bad people so we can eat them," Venom concluded after a few longer moments.

Eddie sighed and petted Venom's head as he said, "It's not always like that. Maybe they're right. It's not our thing."

With an angry voice, Venom said, "But we love you and you did a great job, Eddie."

"Let's eat something tasty, shall we?" Brock suggested, trying to get Venom's attention away from YouTube.

"Yes," Venom replied, wrapping his arms around Eddie. "We love you."

Getting up from the chair, Eddie said, "I know, Venom. Let's go to your favorite place and order whatever you want."

Venom grinned widely. "Yes, that's a very clever idea."

[wind-becomes-lightning]

Bye to Wind and Lightning

TLDR: I AM WHINY AND IM GOING TO MOVE BLOGS TO A SMALLER ONE WHERE NOBODY KNOWS ME. EITHER @kikuneesama FOR GENERAL STUFF OR @konohamaru-sensei FOR ANIME STUFF.

Did you know that in 2020 when the pandemic held us all in a chokehold I decided to reread One Piece and Bleach, but consciously decided not to touch Naruto, as if I knew that I'd be sucked in real bad if I read it again? I was right. In 2021, I randomly thought "No, I will read it now" and then I did and boom I talked about nothing else for that summer and to channel my thoughts I made this blog right here separate from my main and not as a sideblog. I wanted to start completely over at a different place.

I had a terrible summer in 2021, constant mental breakdown. I don't want to bore you with the details because you don't care, but just being back doing the stuff I loved when I was 16 was such a blessing. I was truly happy in the first months here, especially with the discord servers and the oc talk and the friends I made. My boyfriend commented on it all the time, that I looked so very happy. And I was! But these things never stay.

The problem with me is, I want community, I want to talk headcanons and to bitch about characters I don't like and promote ships I love and cry and laugh and hug all of you for liking the same things as me and at the same time I'm terrified of rejection, of people hating me, of people spreading lies behind my back. I guess school does traumatise you in some way.

I can't survive in a cutthroat fandom like this one, I take things too personally too quickly. I don't understand that if you, a normal person with your own wishes, likes a thing I don't like or dislike a thing I like it doesn't mean you automatically hate me. You are just a different person and that is ok! It's not you. It's me. NO I'm not just saying that. It really is me.

Did you know that when I started out here I didn't tag my stuff? Especially not my OC stuff (and I still rarely tag it). The fear that someone might find it, hate on it, send me hate, make fun of it etc, sits so deep that I rather have my work not be seen at all. Yet, I need the attention to keep going because without the reblogs and likes and asks I feel like an utter failure.

My boyfriend says I am not good with the public eye on me and he is probably right. I envy those of you who can stand their ground and be self confident in their arguments. I envy those who don't care what others say, who can block and move on, who don't get a knot in their stomach when someone they had nice interactions with unfollows. I shouldn't care, but I do.

On my first tumblr blog I never looked at my followers, I never got asks either or was deep in fandom or anything, but I reblogged my stuff and posted my thoughts and was feeling good. I love tumblr, its the best social media out there for a reason. Yet, with this one, I got so self conscious about my followers, about what I can and can't say. If my presence would offend or not etc etc.

I was kinda looking forward to 1000 Followers because it is an insane number, but now at 997 I'm throwing in the towel. Isn't that like giving up before the finish line? Maybe, but I'm so tired and I want to be unknown again. I want to be nobody again. I want the naruto fandom to move on and forget I was ever here.

So I'm leaving! Sorry, I guess! At least for a good while. I might be back to finish the requests still pending on this account and then disappear again, but I don't know if I'll ever permanently come back. If you by any chance really, really really care about my presence, you can find me under @kikuneesama as a general spam blog with all sorts of things and under @konohamaru-sensei for anime-only stuff. This is also where my Naruto posting will be moving.

If you are a moot I will follow you from Kikuneesama again.

Thanks, I guess, for over two years of hanging out. I'm sorry I am such a lame loser.

One thing is for sure: Though I am moving to a blog named after Konohamaru, Kakashi will always be my love.

tschüss und auf wiedersehen, ~Nisi

PS: I'll q this a couple of times so I'm sorry if you have to see it a few times in the next few days. I swear I'll be gone after that.

[poppyandzena]

I notice Courtney and Brittney tend to completely and utterly flip out and burn bridges against anyone who disagrees with them slightly and treat them all as if they were another Lily or Poppy. How do they expect anyone to stay on their side or feel safe when they so often flip on a whim?

I said I was uncomfortable with the presence of a 15 year old in channels that discussed intense sexual topics, to the point where I purposefully stepped away so I stopped contributing. I said nothing about the receipts Twitter account, and that is what they focused on when that was not my point. I told that 15 year old in my messages to stop contributing, because a 15 year old should not be involved in any capacity.

Is it "infantilizing"? Yes. Because a 15 year old cannot have an offical drivers license. A 15 year old cannot drink or smoke. A fifteen year old cannot vote. A 15 year old does not have the intellectual capacity to understand that their continued involvement in this situation, private and public, will contribute to mental health issues as they mature. They do not have the capacity to "consent" or understand the ramifications of being exposed to what Poppy, Zena, and Lily have done.

I say this as someone who had an adult penpal in Youtube dms when I was 12. I say this as someone who entered an internet writing community with primarily adults and did not disclose my full age of 15 out of fear of being treated like a child. I say this as someone who was exposed to traumatic, gorey content when I was far too young to process it.

And I was lucky I wasn't groomed.

Lucky. Not smart. That's the key takeaway. There is no mature child, no mature 15 year old.

I don't care about the receipts twitter or whatever that mess is. That's not my circus. I care about the fact that this kid is being treated on par with adults when ten years from now, this may as well be something they will have to contend with in therapy. There has been content I've read, things Poppy and Zena have done that have emotionally harmed me, especially when it came to Spawn. I have cried and raged, stayed up all night, had nightmares, felt ill because of the experiences I archive. I'm a grown adult. I do not wish any of that upon a kid.

In regards to that server, I do not find it conducive to healing, safety, emotional regulation, or productivity. I am not the only one who thinks this. The response I was given to my concern was emblematic of it. Courtney can call me a cunt all they like. That's fine, free speech and all of that. They can say Milena brainwashed me or something about choosing sides or whatever. I've had my concerns about the server, about general behavior, before I even knew Milena. Just like I won't pressure people to like Milena, I'm not going to smile and accept how Courtney has handled things.

[putschki1969]

hi puts. i wanna ask what Keiko and Hikaru's reaction to questions about Wakana. Like maybe when someone asked Keiko when she would invite Wakana for a birthday or something. or maybe someone pointed out the absence of Wakana in their social media. did they hint anything in their responses? did they just ignore? i don't follow u so idk if u hv talk about this before.

Hello there!

First of all, I would like to say that if you are truly interested in this sort of stuff, you should actually make an effort and follow this account. I regularly share news and talk about topics like this. If you want to stay up to date regarding anything related to Kalafina, there is really no other place that is a better source of information. And I am not saying that to brag, I'm saying it because it is the truth.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get to your question.

As a general rule, Keiko and Hikaru do not talk about Wakana on their official social media outlets. The same applies to Wakana by the way. Those public social media accounts/channels are created for work purposes and they are at least partially controlled by management. It's expected of artists to not respond to any comments regardless of the topic. In case of an official Q&A project (as part of an official broadcast or video release), questions pertaining to Wakana, the disbandment or other tricky things are probably just filtered out during the pre-selection process.

It's different in more restricted or private settings. Keiko has been known to answer questions about Wakana in her Instagram Lives. There's never any awkwardness, let alone animosity, quite the contrary actually, Keiko is always very casual about it and fondly refers to Wakana as Wa-chan. For me it sounds as if they are still very close. Of course you have to keep in mind that fans are usually respectful enough to ask light and shallow questions as to not cause any inconvenience. And if there happen to be invasive questions, I guess Keiko just ignores them and moves on to something else.

Hikaru is a bit more reserved and work-oriented, she typically tries her best to wriggle out of any uncomfortable or possibly problematic topics. That's not to say that she hasn't mentioned Wakana here and there. I am unfortunately not able to watch all of her weekly live streams on Music Champ but I try to tune in regularly and from what I can tell, she occasionally mentions Wakana, especially in relation to Kalafina. While I wouldn't say that Hikaru expresses a lot of fondness for Wakana (as Keiko does), she certainly conveys a deep sense of reverence towards Wakana (regarding not only their past together but also Wakana's solo activities).

Having said all that, you have to come to terms with the fact that one thing you will never get from any of them is a straight-forward statement on the situation. The Japanese are masters at window dressing and obfuscation. Will they ever address why exactly there is no public interaction between them? Not any time soon. Will they ever talk about the possible restrictions, regulations or stipulations they have to adhere to? Very unlikely. Will they ever explicitly confirm or deny a future reunion or collaboration? Certainly not as long as Wakana is still with Space Craft.

We have to make peace with the fact that we are currently living off of breadcrumbs. Many of these instances aren't even recorded so there's often nothing concrete to base our faith on...

[mariacallous]

Hungary’s public prosecutor is in the spotlight after former Fidesz apparatchik-turned-critic Peter Magyar on Tuesday handed over a recording that appears to show his ex-wife, the former justice minister Judit Varga, discussing how high-ranking members of Viktor Orban’s government tampered with evidence in a major corruption case.

Evidence and suspicions of corruption surrounding the Fidesz government are not unusual during its almost 15 years in power, but whistleblowers from the inner circle of the ruling party like Magyar, who previously held positions in state-owned companies and comes from a notable conservative family, are rare.

Over the past two months, Magyar has emerged as a major critic of the government, especially of Orban’s éminence grise Antal Rogan, following the resignations of his ex-wife and the then-president Katalin Novak over their involvement in pardoning a man accused of covering up abuse at a children’s home in Budapest.

Since then, Magyar gave an interview to YouTube channel Partizan in mid-February in which he said “we must act if we do not want this country to become the holding company of a few families”, and then organised a rally of 80,000 people on March 15, Hungary’s national holiday, that far exceeded the crowd that the prime minister managed to gather for his speech. He also intends to launch a new party to challenge Fidesz and the opposition.

The latest evidence of corruption that Magyar posted on Facebook and also shared with prosecutors comes from a secretly recorded conversation at home with his then-wife Judit Varga in January 2023, who was justice minister at the time.

During the two-minute recording, a woman sounding like Varga reveals that members of the government had removed certain details from documents relating to a notorious corruption investigation into accusations that the former head of the Court Bailiffs organisation, Gyorgy Schadl, and the state secretary at the Justice Ministry, Pal Volner, took millions of forints in bribes over many years. Schadl was caught at Budapest airport in November 2021 in the act of trying to flee with his wife and a bag stuffed full of cash.

The two men, who deny the charges, are due to stand trial and face years of imprisonment if found guilty.

Varga, who as minister was Volner’s boss at the time, says on the tape that the state secretary had been warned previously but was unwilling to stop his alleged criminal activities. She says that members of the government had suggested to prosecutors that certain details be removed from the documents, but that they had not done so completely.

Varga admits on the tape that the corruption case only came to light because the country’s chief prosecutor, Peter Polt, an ally of Prime Minister Orban, “was not in [full] control” of his office, which showed that the national prosecutor’s office still had a measure of independence.

Pro-government media have dismissed the tape as “nothing new”, while Varga responded on Facebook accusing her husband of domestic violence and intimidation. “I am shocked. He has been blackmailing me with this tape for a year. He made a secret tape in our house and now he is using it for political purposes… I was being terrorised and I said what he wanted,” she explained.

Orban has previously dismissed Magyar’s actions as a soap opera, which is consistent with his usual strategy to ignore embarrassing news in the hope that people will lose interest. The government’s narrative is to portray Magyar as a vengeful ex-husband who mistreated his wife in order to discredit him.

The latest revelations come during a week when the government is also having to deal with the fallout from revelations that former Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro took refuge in the Hungarian embassy in Brasilia in February as he was being investigated for plotting a coup against the elected president, Lula da Silva.

The New York Times reported that Bolsonaro spent two days at the embassy after several of his aides had been arrested and his homes were raided.

Orban, a close ally of Bolsonaro, once called the former Brazilian president an “honest patriot” and told him to “keep fighting”.

The Hungarian ambassador was summoned to Brazil’s Foreign Ministry on Monday, but reportedly remained silent during the 20-minute meeting.

[webnovel-deluxe]

Isn't Being A Wicked Woman Much Better? Side Story Chapter 10

I also upload this chapter in my YouTube channel read there to support my effort, to read click here 👉Link

You have come to me to solve a problem with the holy thing, and it would be difficult to ask if I only emphasized my pure heart.

“I like the scent of tea because the Pope is so worried about me that he even comes to the capital.”

I said with a face as docile as possible. To make it even more gritty.

“Yeah… Hmmmm! But, Lady.”

“Yes, tell me.”

“I have news that the Apocalypse of Saints must be keenly aware of.”

“News?”

Seeing that he says 'news' instead of 'request', he is a human being with a corner like a squirrel.

“Saint Naila left a great relic to ward off the peculiar darkness more than a thousand years ago, in the early days of the founding of Asteria.”

“Of course I do. Because I am the incarnation of a saint. You are talking about the rosary that the cardinal brought during the incense ceremony, right?”

“Yes. By the way… Something is wrong with that holy thing.”

The white rosary was the most prized in the temple, and was only opened to the outside when the pope personally visited or incense ceremonies. However, there was a problem with the sacred objects in this situation where public sentiment towards the temple was at a low level.

Sooner or later, instead, an annual event will be held in the temple, and the Pope will be very upset because he cannot go out with the holy relic in question.

But I pretended not to know anything, and spoke as the Pope intended.

“Hey, there’s something wrong with my stuff. As the incarnation of a saint, it is not a matter to be overlooked.”

I put down the teacup with a serious look on my face, and stared at the Pope seriously.

“Let’s see the condition of things.”

“Yes! Yes! Saint.”

The pope responded quickly with a reddened face, and I reached out as if to offer something.

“That, that… .”

“What?”

“The color of the rosary beads suddenly started to change slightly, so to prevent discoloration, I put it in holy water with strong deity. So… Excuse me, could you stop by the Dominion of Heleia?”

***

The news of Princess Deborah's sudden departure to Heleia caused a stir in the capital.

Of course, it is natural and common sense for a saint to visit before, at the invitation of the Pope.

“There’s nothing strange about it… .”

When the saint saw all of Princess Deborah, it was somehow awkward. Because it is a feeling that a fancy party venue is much more suitable than the papal court.

It wasn't just that.

“In Seymour, they have assembled an elite team of formidable men to escort Saint.”

“Of course, since it’s a saint, I can understand. The princess is the only one, but Deborah must be strong in the first place, why?”

“I have heard that the saint's divinity is merciless to evil demons, but merciful to men. People are scarier than ghosts, do you know? Whether a man with a bad heart will attack Saint-sama. She should be prepared for that.”

“Even though… Isn’t the power capable of annihilating a small country a bit too severe?”

“How much is it?”

“Once the Duke of Visconti and the Hundred Knights of whom he is the vice-leader all applied as escorts … .”

“In addition?”

“Duke Seymour, the owner of the tower, the elders of the tower, the battle unit of the tower led by Sir Rosa de, Sir Belek with the magic tools for attack… There are others.”

“Hey, stop it. I know you well enough.”

***

In front of the ancient teleport that moved from the capital to the former, the Pope and the priests, who met Princess Deborah and the others, were puzzled for a moment.

The last priests were especially surprised.

‘Gee, is she really a saint?’

I saw it as a portrait, but the real thing of the saint was so cold, I was surprised once and twice by the splendid lineup of the escort.

“He is the fiance of the saint whom I had only heard of… This is the Duke of Visconti.”

“Even the genius twins of the Seymour family… .”

“Isn’t that black-haired swordsman the rise of the sword?”

Famous celebrities that even the priests who live far from the capital are familiar with will go out to escort the saint.

'Are you going to wage a war with the temple?'

The Pope tried to hide his embarrassment.

“So many people follow! You will be amazed by the popularity of the saint. Of course, there are a lot of paladins who will protect the saints in the temple.”

The pope slightly turned around saying that there were too many escorts, but

“These people… I've reduced it to half and half. No more.”

The pope could not vomit any more because Princess Deborah spoke gloomily in a friendly voice somewhere.

“Hmmmm. Shall we leave then?”

After some time, the ancient warp gate carrying the great man came into operation, and Princess Deborah stepped in instead for the first time in her life.

“This magnificent building is the Holy See in the center of the Great Temple. Each piece seems to come to life.”

Thierry looked around the inside of the temple full of magnificent paintings and sculptures with admiration over and over again. After quitting daily gambling, his swordsmanship skills had grown dramatically, and he was barely able to be chosen as Princess Deborah's escort.

“Thieri, do you know that you don't came here for a tour?”

5 The princess bit her tongue when she saw Thierry's frivolous behavior.

“It’s not wrong, but I want you to protect the body of the Asteria nobles.”

"it's okay. The dignity and body of the Asteria nobles are already being protected there.”

Thierry proudly pointed to Isidore walking in the lead.

Instead, all the priests and servants passing through the temple glanced at him with a look of surprise. People who saw Isidor for the first time usually doubted their eyes and would react like that.

“Somehow, it seems to be getting better and better. The body is taller.”

“I wonder if it’s the sign of Epsilon and the flower of the year for nothing.”

“Whoa, even if Isidor looks a little less… ‌.”

“I’m sorry, but even assuming Isidor is a little less handsome… In many ways, you can’t.”

“Even though it looks so light, I was in the middle of healing the wounds of my broken heart, do I have to break even the bones?”

“You’re hot all over again.”

“What?”

“… Do you feel sympathy with you? It's a shame.”

While Thierry and the princess were having a sweet conversation, Isidor was paying close attention to the priests.

The holy relics were discolored, and the princess's divine power was slow to recover. Not a good sign.

If the remnants of the Warlock Mage remain, there was also a stronghold hiding here, pretending to be a priest like Miya Binoshu.

'I have experienced enough of the lesson that it is dark under the lamp...'

“Princess, the Pope isn’t guiding us to a place other than the holy place, is it?”

At Isidor's whisper, Deborah shook her head slightly.

“That's not right.”

Upon arriving here, the memories of Naila, who grew up in the temple in the past, came up again and again.

At the end of this labyrinthine corridor, there will be a sanctuary, a spring of water containing divine powers.

“We are here.”

The Pope, who had been walking for a while, stopped in front of a white marble arched door.

Beyond the door, in the center of the circular room, there was a large sculpture in the shape of Nyla, and below it was a small fountain.

“From here on, only a limited number of people can enter.”

At the Pope's words, Belek raised an eyebrow.

��What is the reason?”

“It is a place where holy water with high purity and divine power springs out, so to prevent external contamination… Lady!?”

That was then.

Suddenly, Princess Deborah passed the huge door and began to make her way towards the center of the room where the relic was located.

“Deborah!?”

***

'In addition… heart... ’

thump-thump

From the moment you discover the rosary contained in holy water, your heart begins to beat wildly like when you were incense burn.

My heart was beating so much that my eardrums hurt, and in front of my eyes, countless afterimages of the past flickered quickly. In the flood of memories, I suddenly felt a door.

How did that rosary elicit such a strong reaction?

‘At the time of incense, I awakened all my strength because of that thing. '

My heart beats like crazy every time I come across that white rosary, and I get caught up in a distant sensation, is it simply because it stimulates memories of my past life?

‘Hey, why are you doing this? '

As if asking a question, I stared at the rosary contained in the holy water.

‘And why did the color change like this?'

At that moment, a faint light began to emanate from the beads of the rosary, which had been dyed with a dull gray color. As if answering my question.

- *Deborah*

uh? I think you just called my name?

'A familiar voice... .'

As if possessed by a voice that seemed to contain sadness, I reached out for it... .

“Ugh!”

The moment I grabbed the smooth marble, a strong light flowed out of the six marbles and gradually began to draw a certain shape.

'no way… Magic circle?'

“sh*t.”

Something feels weird, but it's already too late.

The space around me shook like a wave, and I muttered a curse. The distortion of the space became more and more severe, and before long the floor on which I was standing swung like a swirling sea.

Standing precariously in the distorted space, I instinctively looked back. To find the first man that comes to mind when I sense any danger.

“Deborah!?”

The figure of Isidor calling to me, the dew flowed slowly like a video.

Confused, he came down and quickly grabbed his floundering arm, but soon the space began to distort relentlessly like oil on water, and I was thrown into a strange place.

Support me with like, Comments & share. Your support will encourage me to upload next chapter faster.

[crosbyism]

Anon from earlier re: numerology & your tags in the 3x29=87 vein - AND Sid has won THREE Stanley Cups. COINCIDENCE? Yes. BUT IS IT A FUN LITTLE FACT? Also yes. Also i'm sorry, I don't know anything abt pwhl players I only got into hockey at all this year 😭 ive never really watched sports until now but I do always love that while men's sports tend to be... not so accepting, regardless of how the public sees them women in sports are more likely to be out and proud and even marrying other women in sports 🥺

haha aw anon don’t let me poop on your party— jokes aside, the numerology thing is hilarious and amazing (and amazing fic fodder tbh— imagine a magical realism au where sid has an affinity or psychic connection for people who have some sort of numerological connection to his number. i’d read it). i’m just always a fandom old making dumb jokes. don’t take me having a laugh too seriously, and don’t let me make you feel insecure about being a fandom newbie please! it’s of course perfectly okay not to know anything about the pwhl, especially if you’re a newbie— but let me use this opportunity to enlighten you!

Marie-Philip Poulin plays for the Montréal Victoire of the PWHL together with her (now-)wife, Laura Stacey. Her nicknames are Captain Canada and Captain Clutch, for the simple fact that she has scored the game winning goal in three olympic gold medal games to win all three of her olympic gold medals (sidney crosby, by contrast, has managed this feat only once at the 2010 olympics in vancouver, and only won two olympic gold medals.) over her career in women’s professional leagues she’s an almost two points-per-game player (insane) and her international records are nothing to sneeze at either: she’s won bronze once, at the 2019 world cup. at every single other international tournament she’s attended, she’s won either silver (ten times) or gold (seven times, including her three olympics golds).

a lot of people, when talking about her, call her “the female sidney crosby”— no doubt owed to the fact that they’re of a similar age (she’s only four years younger) and both very popular, successful captains of team canada that have achieved legend-status. but this is a pretty inaccurate assessment. by every available comparable metric, Marie-Philip Poulin is actually better than sidney crosby.

—anyway, if you’re interested in potentially watching MPP play, good news is that the PWHL youtube channel streams all games for free! can highly recommend giving it a watch. boy howdy are those games entertaining, and on average i find them more entertaining than the men’s games. also: i, too, am a big fan of how openly queer women’s hockey is (especially opposed to the nhl…) and i think watching some games and getting into the pwhl and giving them some love is always a good call.

(also, between me and you? definitely give the PWHL team socials a follow. the walk-in fits are so good and if you happen to be into women will make you blush in public and develop serious crushes on some of the players)

[nsfwitchy2]

Hi Witchy!

About the girlwithdogs channel: as channels grow it's inevitable that the creator behind it becomes less realistic. Sucks for groomers to give the public false expectations but it's kind of inevitable. Lots of channels start out as little niche passion projects and then . . . I could write a whole ass paper about the Youtuber phenomenon, but I just submitted my own paper and have zero interest in writing for another three months. And honestly, probably somebody else already has written about it better than I can.

You said you didn't want to go off because you're at work, but can you tell us more about grooming cats when you can? I love how little work having my boy is but now you're saying I should shave him? Like, his fur????

Thanks and love xx

Ps. More Adam, please!!!

I mean yeah that makes sense, and like I said I haven’t seen her newer stuff and I probably won’t lol - but it seemed like I would be doing the grooming community kind of a disservice if I didn’t mention the general opinion of her that I’ve seen, yknow? I think a lot of YouTubers become less realistic as their channels grow, it happens all the time.

But yeah it does suck, especially because, tbh, the average US citizen at the very least knows like…. NOTHING about pet grooming? Like, if I asked the average person they would say it’s where you give pets a hair cut, but most people don’t… know anything past that, and often times don’t even factor in what that means.

Your question for example, which I am using to segway here and I don’t mean this in any shameful way. But I have like… never advocated to have anybody shave their cat unless it was medically necessary. Ever. Because unless it is medically necessary - DO N O T SHAVE YOUR FUCKING CAT!!!! Your cats fur is necessary for protecting their skin, regulating their temperature, and for sensory input. There is also a VERY solid chance it will not grow back, or it won’t grow back correctly and may leave bald patches. I have only ever advocated for shaving cats who medically needed to be shaved - such as the cat who bit me, who is highly aggressive when being brushed. Which basically means his owners cannot brush him or he will attack them. Long haired cats specifically N E E D to be brushed, or their fur will mat and this can become painful and dangerous.

Now I will say - there are people who get cats shaved for reasons that aren’t medically necessary. We usually try to educate them on why that’s bad, but at the end of the day they are paying for a service so we still have to do it if they want us to. It usually isn’t fun though, for us or the cat. They don’t really like being shaved.

What you CAN do with your cat though, and what I personally suggest you do, is regularly brush and bathe them. Or get them bathed lol, we have equipment you guys don’t lol.

Brushing your cat keeps them from getting matted - which like I said, is painful and can be dangerous. Matting is when the fur knots together in clumps, and overtime it can eventually grow into one big clump - called pelting. Matted and pelted fur is VERY tight and pulls on the animals skin, which causes irritation. It basically makes them super hot, super itchy, and super dirty because it traps dirt and dander and makes it hard for them to regulate their body temperature. This can cause things like mat rash - which can become inflamed and infected. Mats CAN be brushed out before they become too bad, but once they do it is only recommended to remove them through shaving and never cutting. This process is fairly dangerous since the closer the mats are to the skin, the closer the cut - and since matted and pelted animals are usually pretty uncomfortable, they can be pretty irritable and restless and even aggressive. To be honest - while long haired cats specifically NEED to be brushed, you should also brush short haired cats as well because they can become impacted if you don’t. You mentioned Adam so I’ll use him as my example here XD

Adam sheds like crazy. Like…. Adam sheds an ABSURD amount of hair. However he does not need regular brushing because he is regularly maintained through Beatle grooming him, his own grooming, and our regular petting and snuggling. However if I were ever to pet Adam and start noticing lumps and clumps in his fur, that would signal to me that I need to start brushing him - because his shedded fur isn’t being removed as efficiently as it was before and is starting to clump and become impacted. Which can also, you guessed it, lead to matting!!

Bathing your cat just keeps them clean and soft!! Contrary to popular belief, cats do not bathe themselves - they just brush themselves to some degree. Bathing cats can help with dandruff, dry skin and skin irritation. It’s also necessary for hairless cats to remove excess body oils, as well as older cats or long haired cats who may not be able to clean themselves thoroughly with their tongue. I have seen some NASTY cats, let me say, who definitely needed a good bath.

There is also a high chance that if you DO take your cat to a pet groomer, they will cut their nails. I do wanna say now that this is fine - we do this for our safety and it does not hurt the cat in any way. I clip Beatles nails because he likes to rip up the walls and door frames.

Mmmm aside from that I guess the only thing I can think of to talk about is nail caps lmao. They’re not great - don’t use them. It’s like putting acrylics on a cat, the glue erodes and damages their nails after a while. They also can’t retract their claws in nail caps either, which can lead to stress - I say that from experience because we got nail caps for Beatle and he got so stressed he began to eat his fur off :/

We offer nail caps at the salon too, but it’s like shaving - all we can do is advocate on the animals behalf, at the end of the day though they’re paying us for a service so we still have to do it.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my TEDTalk I guess and giving me an excuse to flaunt my cat grooming knowledge XD

I won’t lie it really is one of my favorite parts of my job, cat grooming is very fascinating despite the occasional safety hazards - though tbh any job that involves working up close and personal with animals has its dangers so 🤷‍♀️

But yes yes, here is an Adam for you XD

And a bonus Beatle as well!! My snuggly baby boys 💞🥺

[saveraedae]

I know this may seem a bit random, but I'm considering moving some of my videos to a different channel, and possibly even reuploading some of my unlisted stuff as well onto the one I move stuff onto. Why am I considering this?

Well, for one, I really wanna have a set place for The Mark Side that's specifically *for* The Mark Side. The actual show I mean. I know i've got years worth of animation memes and random MVs pertaining to the characters, and most of the ones that are public would probably remain up for the sake of preservation and still having content on the channel, but I really wanna have more of a structure here. Scrolling through my videos, things look pretty cluttered to me. :/

I've got nothing against my fandom / older videos! But I'm just not sure if my random content alongside everything else that's TMS related makes things too cluttered or not...? :[ Plus idk how to feel about the fact that all of my most viewed videos on a channel that's main purpose is posting about my passion project is just all the fandom videos it has- fjghkjkj. I feel if each thing has its own place I wouldn't care at all.

And I do hate that some of my stuff is unlisted, because I'd still love for people to see some of it, but the poorer quality stuff and stuff I wasn't too fond of anymore outweighed the stuff I wanted people to look at first when going to my channel.

I had considered making another channel for more actual-show TMS stuff, but then I'd be starting from the ground up again and I know it'd be incredibly hard to grow that channel, especially since it wouldn't be uploading much at all. (I mean, it took me 8/9 years to get 11k lol) So idk. I don't really wanna do that.

But what do yall think? Should I move some of my stuff to another channel? Or should I just keep doing things how I'm doing them? I'm genuinely not sure so I would appreciate hearing what people have to say!!

[psychelis-new]

Hi, psychelis! I hope you're doing well!

I want to ask if you have any tips in staying objective during channeling a message. I get the energy objectively when I first start channeling, but then my brain automatically take that into my perception, and so the reading then move according to my perception of the energy, not the energy itself. I do see some tarot reader also struggle with this cause their reading feels so subjective sometimes, like the energy don't match the translation they did. I think it would be harmful to provide a reading for public consumption when we're still struggling with this. Therefore, I really want to know how to overcome this state.

Thank you ahead of time, psychelis!

Hellooo I'm okay today thanks, hope you're well!

Okay let me try to explain my view and then let me know if any of what I am writing resonate or I got your words all wrong :)

As readers in order to deliver a proper message especially to others (be it pacs or personal readings), we need to take ourselves out of the energy of the reading. I think to do this, the most important thing we need to do is know ourself first, our triggers, our shadow, our unmet needs... whatever may get in the way and have us cage ourself and not be open enough to deliver the correct message out of any bias we may have. This includes also the reasons why we're channeling/reading: is it because we want to help others in anyway or because we want to be seen/validated/feel important...? (This is valid ofc, our *unconscious* feelings are valid, but it's something we need to heal or at least be aware of first, to be able to provide a good service imo). Anything that may trigger us and/or any emotion we may feel towards the person we're reading for and their situation (eg. comparing our own with theirs, feeling inferior/lacking...), needs to stay out of the way: other person, other life; it's not about us, we're nothing different from a phone when channeling. Or a language translator, if you rather. The moment we don't more or less unconsciously search for a sign for us during the reading we're providing or we don't compare with with we get, we can be sure what we're doing is okay. If we still have doubts about our job, we can ask for 1-2 cards (or you can use other divination methods): at times clarifications can help you realize if you're getting it right or not, or if you're getting in the way or not (but if you know your energy and your situation, you know when you're in the reading too).

Something else we can do, is meditating before starting to read or closing off/dissociating, simply by focusing more on the outside energy instead of the inside one. Every reader has their own method ofc, I personally tend to dissociate. I also use clairs most of the times when I read, so I focus on the feeling/words/images I get when focusing on a specific detail of a pile (for example) or of the energy I am reading for. What I also suggest, aside from taking time for yourself and healing/taking care of your own energy first and foremost, is to start by channeling for yourself (maybe every morning when you wake up, meditate or pull a card for your day), take a break, and then channel for others if you feel like you're in the right mental/emotional space: we also need to give from an excess of our energy; we cannot give well/objectively if we're healing a part of us and we feel depleted/overwhelmed cause of that or any other personal situation. [Random note: not all the tarot readers use energies: many just use tarots and rely on intuitively reading the cards they get together, which works as well especially if you have a good experience and knowledge about cards' meanings].

This said, I believe that to deliver the message we are getting (in whatever way we're are receiving it), we do need to base ourselves on our experience too, not just our intuition. Ofc at times we'll learn something new through readings or get wise words (that may work for us too, and that's good), but I noticed that, at least personally, I often get messages that I can connect with what is my personal experience or the experiences that I come to know of: this way I know what the situation is about and I can adapt the message to something more tangible, and give a better explanation and possibly be more accurate in my delivery. Always trying to stay behind the scenes ofc and being objective as the other's perception of a situation (or level of understanding/healing of it) is basically never the same as another one's/mine. What I mean is... try to put yourself in the other's shoes, with respect, understanding and kindness. It may not always work fine, but occasionally it's also a matter of how much the receiver is open to get that specific message.

And here we get to the next point: when we read (also for ourselves) or want to receive a message from a reader under determined circumstances (emotional/mental in particular), occasionally we may tend to be biased and wanting to hear determined words or specific signs. This way we guide and/or interpret the reading in a wrong way. We're not listening nor reading correctly, we're not open to get any message but just the message we want to hear. And this may happen also when readers work when too tired or stressed, overwhelmed by our problems... as mentioned in the beginning, we close off to energies, we "cage" ourselves and let our mind be closed off under our insecurities' bias. This won't do, as you said. And it's pretty "dangerous" to provide readings in this situation especially to others cause we may just end up triggering them for no reason, for example. When we read, is good to keep in mind about our emotional/mental situation and try to calm down before getting wrong infos and stress even more, also when we do it for ourselves. But it's also good to remember, it may not always solely be on us and our inability to read for a specific energy when a reading "doesn't work".

When receiving a message from a reader, the receiver always has the ability to realize when the reading is okay with them and when not. Especially when they're grounded enough to realize their own (mental/emotional) situation as well from an objective point of view. It's up to them to welcome a message, consider it (it can give them another perspective over a matter at least) or close off from it, refuse it (they may also not be ready to hear/understand that message and may need more time for it, or it really doesn't resonate with them; it's all good: it's also cause not all the readers can get every energy correctly or can read all of them for different reasons). Anyway. Relying too much on readings, not trusting your own intuition and view on the matter (whatever it is), is not something I suggest to do. Readings are never 100% correct and readers are humans too (as said). Readings cannot substitute your life's experience or the advice of a professional figure (if that's the case), they're mostly for support or entertainment. It's on the receiver as well to not take in a non-resonating message and also to give feedback, if they feel like: readers at times may misinterpret some cards or leave out a sentence (maybe cause of their own bias/situation or cause they just lose it while focusing on other aspects), and some cards may also get a specific message based on that specific reading/energy that they won't have any other time. Explanations between the two party to me are important also for further understanding/giving more insights/details that may be useful for both.